Fractures
by Synch
Summary: What if, in the future shown in I Am Become Death, Peter never made the trip back in time? How might the future have unfolded? Could destruction be avoided? Or was that fate fixed?
1. Prologue

_**Someday – Somewhere**_

_He waited in the shadows until the children had arrived._

_He didn't know for sure how long it had been. He lost track of time after a while. But so many children had been born lately. Almost as if nature were compensating for something._

_He approves of the order they show. They sit in neat rows, anxiously looking around. For the first time in history, there is unity. Color, creed, age and even gender had been swept away. Those children with power sit beside those without, and there is no hatred, no envy._

_The youngest of the children, only five years old, looked into the shadows where Teacher waits. "Tell us a story, Teacher?" His voice was high pitched and anxious._

_Stepping out of the shadows, the Teacher smiled gently at the boy. "A story, Michael?" Pushing back the hood with which he covered his face, he blinked in the dim light. Gazing thoughtfully over the assembled children, he finally nodded. "I think I have just the story for you today."_

_Crouching in the position that was more comfortable than sitting, he folded his hands over his knees. "It's a story of love and hate, of war and death. Most of all it is a story of folly."_

_Drawing a deep breath, he lowered his eyelids and looked over the assembled children one more time. All ages were represented here. From young Michael to the nearly adult Brianna, seventeen and already engaged. "The story begins, as do all stories, in the time before it would seem to begin. Because, in order to know what happened, you must also know what led to it."_


	2. Chapter 1: April to July, 2006

_**April**_

**The Petrelli Mansion**

Angela had given their few servants the night off. Preparing the meal had temporarily taken her mind off what had happened, and what was about to.

She sat with her husband at the small dining table, quietly eating the soup she had prepared. After swallowing another spoonful, Arthur glanced at her. "This soup is delicious."

Lost in thought, she stared at her own bowl for another minute. "Italian Lentil. Your mother's recipe."

Putting his spoon down, Arthur wiped his lips with the napkin. "Something on your mind?"

Looking at her husband for the first time, Angela offered a slight smile. "What's the matter, Arthur? You can't see inside it?"

He stared at her for several seconds before noticing her eyes dart over his shoulder. Glancing back, he saw the Haitian just inside the kitchen. He turned his head back to Angela with a question on his lips. Before he could ask it, he grimaced and grabbed his stomach.

Angela kept her eyes on him. "Indigestion?" When he wiped his mouth again, she focused back on her soup. "So what do you think, Arthur? Do you still know me?" Dabbing her lips with the napkin, she turned her head to face him again. "Can you tell anything about me just by looking in my eyes?"

He didn't blink. "You're my wife, Angela. I know you like I know my own heart."

With a sad smile, she glanced down and whispered, "Really?" Looking at him again, she forced a slightly teasing sound into her voice. "So what am I going to do now? Am I going to kiss you? Or am I going to kill you?"

After several minutes of silence, Arthur stood and began to pace. Angela turned her attention to her meal, trying to corral her racing thoughts. She remembered the argument about Nathan's involvement in the Linderman investigation. She remembered the accident that nearly cost her son his life, and crippled Heidi. Most of all, she remembered discovering that her husband, the man she had believed in, was directly responsible for all of it.

She couldn't stand the silence. "Our son, Arthur! Our own son!"

Returning to the table, he placed his large hands on his chair and leaned toward her. "There are larger issues at stake, Angela. You can't let sentimentality derail everything that we've worked so hard for!"

In stunned disbelief, she stared at him. "I'm sentimental because I don't want to murder our son?"

Pushing away from the table, he resumed his pacing. It was all falling apart. Everything he had worked for since reconnecting with Daniel was being threatened by his own wife! "We were going to rebuild the world!"

"You were a great man, Arthur. You were a visionary." Watching him pace, she caught his eye. "But somewhere along the way you lost your soul."

Arthur slammed his hand against the chair. "And I make no apology for-" Grunting in pain, he clutched at his stomach. When he tried to continue speaking, the pain nearly doubled him over. As a horrifying realization swept through him, his eyes darted from his wife to the soup and back.

Gazing at her husband through seemingly emotionless eyes, she confirmed his suspicions. "I lied. It's not your mother's recipe." Looking pointedly away from him, she took a slow sip of wine.

As he collapsed to the floor, Angela finished her drink. While doing so, a single tear carved its way down her cheek.

_**

* * *

May**_

**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**

When Arthur died, Maury had known his own freedom, and possibly life, was in jeopardy. He had tied himself to Petrelli primarily because he had known it to be the only safety he had. So long as he was useful to Arthur, he was protected. Given how the others felt about him, that protection was all that kept him out of Level Five.

When he learned the protection was gone he had run. Taking enough money to live on, he fled to a city he had no connection to. He left the small apartment only for groceries or, once, to visit a local bar and bring home a young, nubile, woman.

Laying in bed, he considered picking up another such girl. He had used his power to convince her she wanted him and, after it was over, to further convince her she spent the night completely drunk. By the time she was a dozen steps from his apartment she had forgotten everything that happened.

Almost before he had drifted to sleep, a familiar voice jolted him awake. "Hello, Maury."

****************

**Norfolk, Virginia**

Blythe stared at her suitcases for several minutes before emptying them back on her bed. The graduation ceremony had been four hours ago, and her father hadn't been there. _What a surprise,_ she thought sourly.

He had never been there when she needed him. An career military man as well as an alcoholic, the Service and the beer had always taken priority over family. After the car accident that killed her mother, the drinking had grown even worse. _As if getting even more drunk could erase the fact that his __drinking was what killed her in the first place._

Grunting in disgust, she looked around her small room. Her classmates were all celebrating the end of High School. She was packing for a move to California. She had never shown the letter offering a full scholarship to the University of California in San Diego to him. She hadn't even told him she was planning on moving. In the ten years since the accident, silence had become the safest form of communication between them.

Sighing, she began to repack seventeen years into four suitcases and a small carry-on.

****************

**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**

Maury blinked slowly, unwilling to move his head. He knew that voice.

"You may as well get up, Maury. I'm not leaving just yet."

After he sat up, he forced himself to look in the direction the voice had come from. When he saw who was there, he blurted, "But you're dead!"

Laughing, Arthur pushed himself to his feet. "Not quite, old friend." Stilling his face, he walked over and laid a hand on Maury's shoulder. "I need your help."

Trying a helpless grin, Maury rubbed at his eyes. "Not sure how much help I can be, Arthur. When we got word you'd died, I knew I was next. So I hid. As long as I stay quiet they can't find me. If I help you, I put myself on their radar again."

Shaking his head, Arthur let his hand drop. "They're no longer looking for you, Maury. They consider you unimportant, and as long as you're out of their hair, they have no interest."

Grunting noncommittally, he stared around his small apartment. "I don't want to end up on Level Five, Arthur. And if your wife finds me, that's the best I have to look forward to. She's always held me in contempt, and may have me retired if I draw her attention."

Arthur's face went cold. "Don't worry about Angela, Maury. She's lost her way, as has the entire Company, and I will personally handle that when the time is right. For now I can offer you a purpose beyond using your ability to rape weak-minded women."

****************

**Over Virginia**

Blythe relaxed into the seat and stared out the plane's window. She'd left a note for her father on the table, telling him where she was going and that she'd try to contact him when she had a place to stay. _Not that he's likely to even notice I'm gone._

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a thick novel. Between that and her phone, she would be able to stay occupied until her layover. As she opened the book, she saw the man sharing her row come back. He had removed his jacket and she could see an unusual tattoo on his left forearm. Although she had made no effort to strike up a conversation, the marking piqued her curiosity. When he sat down, she touched his arm briefly. "Excuse me, sir?"

Turning his head toward her, he smiled. "What can I do for you, Miss?" His voice held the slightest race of an accent. Briefly she resented that she was still technically not an adult.

Nodding at his arm, she smiled and shrugged helplessly. "I've never seen a tattoo like that before. I'm not trying to be rude, but could you tell me what it's supposed to be?"

Frowning slightly, he turned his arm over. Suddenly he laughed. "This old thing? It's a Celtic Dragon. Sort of a family thing, I guess you'd say. Da' said it symbolized power or something like that, and had everyone in the family get one."

Intrigued by the friendly face, she asked, "So you're Irish?"

Still grinning, he shrugged. "Da' calls us Irish-American. I figure I was born in California, so I've dropped the Irish. But, yeah, the family's from Ireland." Raising an eyebrow in thought, he chuckled. "It's funny, actually. I left there without looking back. Now I'm heading back to the same area, well, San Diego anyway, for a job." Shrugging again, he laughed it off. "So, what puts such a gorgeous young lady on this flight all alone?"

Glancing back out her window, she stared at the clouds below in silence. Finally, she said, just loud enough to be heard, "Leaving home without looking back." Forcing the smile back into place, she looked at him again. "Funny you mentioned San Diego, actually. I'm heading there for college."

Holding out his hand, he offered a friendly smile. "Looks like we're stuck together for a while, then. Name's Doug Wallace."

Taking his hand in her own, she smiled at the careful shake he offered. "Blythe Anders."

Leaning back in his seat, he shut his eyes. "Pleased to meet you, Blythe. Now, if you don't think I'm being rude, I'll leave you to your book while I catch a quick nap." A brief, mysterious, smile played across his lips. "Had a job last night that kept me up past my bedtime."

As he drifted off, she checked the news updates on her phone before settling back with her book. The only item of any interest regarded a theft the night before. **General Robert E. Lee's Sword Stolen While On Display In Norfolk State University**.

****************

**Philadelphia, Pennsylvania**

Maury slumped against the wall. He knew he had no real choice in the matter. "Fine. When and where do you want me?"

Arthur smiled again and rested a hand on his shoulder. "That's the spirit, Maury. I've created a company, Pinehearst, with headquarters in Fort Lee, New Jersey. When you get to the building, ask to see Doctor Livitz. He'll bring you back to see me. I'll let you know what I need when we meet face to face."

With that final statement, Arthur disappeared and Maury woke up in his bed. Swearing under his breath, he walked to the small refrigerator and opened a beer. "Shit. I hoped I was done with this."

_**

* * *

June**_

**San Diego, California**

Doug walked into the small building casually, as if he belonged. This meeting intrigued him for multiple reasons. Primarily, the contact hadn't come through any of his usual sources. The client had called him directly.

Even if he'd been inclined to ignore the call, the fact that they were offering twenty-five thousand for the meeting, and an additional half million if he completed the job they wanted him for, guaranteed he was at least willing to listen.

****************

**Vestmannaeyjar, Iceland**

Raven Taylor relaxed in the comfortable chair in her trailer, staring at the newest addition to what people termed her Ego Wall. Although, in her case, it wasn't quite accurate.

She had seen the walls of other models. They were covered in pictures from their personal favorite photo shoots, or framed copies of the magazines they had graced the covers of.

Raven would have almost none of that. The only two magazines she had framed on the wall were the Maxim issue she had posed for under the _Beauty And Brains_ theme, and the FHM from two years ago where she had been voted as the Sexiest Woman Alive. She had a healthy ego, you needed one in this business, but she didn't need anything like the typical Ego Wall to stroke it.

Her wall was covered in pictures, but not with her as the focus. She had several pictures of her parents, who had died several years ago. She had even more pictures of her brother, only a handful of which had her in them at all.

Her newest addition made her prouder than either of the magazine covers. She had flown back to New York last night expressly to pick it up. Her graduation ceremony from New York University had been held early this morning. She had never felt prouder than standing on that stage in her cap and gown and seeing Paulo, her brother, in the audience applauding her.

After an early lunch with him, she had to catch the private jet back here for the photo shoot.

Stripping off her robe, she carefully pulled on the nearly nonexistent gold and white bikini the coordinator had given her for this day's shoot. Pausing briefly by the door, she looked back at the diploma. **Bachelor Of Medicine In Psychiatric Medicine**.

****************

**San Diego, California**

Doug looked around the room through the viewer of his specialized helmet. One of the benefits of being the best in his line of work was being able to purchase or, if you had the proper contacts, special order gear for the peculiar needs of your chosen profession. There was a genius who frequented the Angry Skunk Bar who had created this particular suit.

It was designed to baffle any detection device with the exception of a motion sensor. The helmet scanned all frequencies, letting him sample the local communications in case he was discovered. It also had several different readouts that let him view every possible security protection that had ever been used. The belt at his waist contained the essentials of the trade, from the basic lock pick to the more advanced password and key code hacking tools. He had a gun strapped to his leg, but had never used it even for intimidation.

There was a rope wrapped around his chest for climbing or rappelling, and a police nightstick that was useful for everything from knocking out the night watchman to breaking a pane of glass that couldn't be removed by less violent means.

Pulling a baffler from one of his belt pockets, he stared down the hall at the basic laser grid. With a quiet smile, he tossed the baffler down the hall and sprinted after it. As it went off, disrupting the grid while leaving the sensors convinced nothing had gone wrong, he rolled to a stop, pocketing the baffler as he stood to his feet. _Heh. Simple._

Looking around, he pressed his hand to the side of his helmet and called up the building map he had programmed after accepting the job. _Looks like I'm less than a hundred feet away._

Checking the timer in the upper right of his visor, he grimaced. _Ten minutes until rounds. _Closing his eyes briefly, he considered his next moves carefully. _Three minutes to get to the vault. Five minutes to hack in, grab the fucking merchandise, and get out. That leaves me two minutes to get the hell out of Dodge. FUCK._

There was obviously a reason for the half million price tag on this job. It was the hardest one he'd ever pulled. Shrugging, he broke into a run. Maybe he could cut some time off the beginning and give himself a couple extra minutes on the escape.

Six minutes later, he was closing the vault behind him. As he was sprinting down the hall toward the laser grid, he heard the guard behind him. "What the fuck?" Then he heard the distinct sounds of the guard activating his radio. "Yeah, we've got a runner down here- how the fuck should I know what's going on?- He was near the vault!"

"Fuck." Dipping his hand into his pocket, he tossed the recharged baffler toward the laser grid. Sprinting through the deactivated grid, he grabbed the baffler and shoved it pack into the belt pocket. He heard the guard's footsteps behind him.

Suddenly the steps faltered and Doug heard the man scream. Spinning around, he watched in horror as the guard's momentum carried him through the grid. He stared in horrified fascination as the guard looked at him for less than a second before his body fell apart where the grid had carved through him.

_Four years since I left home. Three of them as an accomplished thief. The past two as one of the __best in the business. And this is the first time a man died because of me._

Turning again, he muttered a few choice words and made his way out of the building and into the night.

_**

* * *

July**_

**Rio De Janeiro, Brazil**

She lay on the beach with the dark nipples of her bare breasts barely covered by the white sand and waves crashing over her thong covered hips. Her hair fell down her back, a black wave breaking across the bronze flesh and crashing onto the white beach.

With a playful, even flirtatious, smile, Raven looked at the cameras. She knew what that look did to the men, and the women, who would see her picture on the cover.

Suddenly the shoot erupted into chaos. Her assistant, Rose Harkness, came running out of Raven's trailer and into the middle of the shoot. As the photographers and coordinator were swearing at the woman, Raven leapt to her feet.

She knew the woman. Rose would never interrupt unless something major was happening. "What is it, Rose?"

Rose held out the cell phone in a pale, trembling hand. "They wouldn't tell me."

Taking the phone, Raven took her assistant's shoulder in one hand. "Who is it, Rose?"

"The NYPD, Ms. Taylor."

Her heart stopped. Bringing the phone to her ear, she tried to still her trembling. "This is Raven Taylor."

"Ms. Taylor? This is Detective Burdette with the NYPD." The feminine voice was brisk and professional.

"Yes. May I help you?"

"Have you heard from your brother, Paulo Taylor?"

Her heart dropped further. "No, I haven't. I don't understand. What's this about?"

"We were contacted this morning by the company with whom he had contracted to install the wiring. Apparently he didn't show up for work yesterday, and they spent the day trying to contact him. We haven't been able to locate him, and were hoping you would know where he was."

Nearly in tears, she shook her head. He couldn't be missing. Not Paulo. "No. I've heard nothing." Making a decision she knew would piss off everyone involved in the photo shoot, she brushed back the tears. "I'm in Brazil right now. I'll be flying to New York as soon as I can catch a plane."

"Understood, Ms. Taylor."

When the call disconnected, she carefully handed the phone back to her assistant. "Can you pack a small bag with the essentials, Rose? And see if we can't charter a flight back to New York?" When the smaller woman nodded, Raven thanked her.

When she turned around, the coordinator was in her face. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Taylor? This isn't a fucking vacation you can just call off!"

Brushing her hair back, she looked at the small, overweight man with tears in her eyes. "I'm going back home, Sanders. And if you don't like it, too fucking bad! My brother's missing! So fuck your photo shoot and fuck your magazine and fuck your money! The only thing that matters right now is I get home and find Paulo!"

Ignoring the stammering man, she stormed to her trailer to wash off and catch the flight she knew Rose would already have chartered.

****************

**San Diego, California**

The pounding on his door woke him up. Glancing at his clock, Doug swore. Five thirty in the morning. Slipping into a pair of shorts and a shirt, he looked through the peephole in the door.

_Cops? Shit!_

Opening the door carefully, he did his best to look sleepy but innocent. Before he had a chance to open his mouth, the door was pushed open and two Detectives, along with three uniformed officers, had barged through the door. A warrant was shoved into his hand.

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he unfolded the warrant and looked through it. He felt his face turn white. The warrant gave them permission to tear his motel apart. Specifically they were looking for the outfit he had worn in last night's theft, as well as the seventeenth century diamond necklace he had been hired to liberate from that vault.

He knew it was only a matter of time. He hadn't had the opportunity to unload the merchandise. He had been supposed to meet his client in about six hours to hand it over and collect his money.

He'd barely had time to read the warrant when they found the suitcase. Barely five minutes later, they discovered the false bottom. The lead Detective glanced inside then walked over to where he still stood by the door. "All right, Mr. Wallace. There are two ways we can do this. You can open that false bottom for us, which would make things a little easier and might just earn you a little leniency in court. Or you force us to break it open, which would be the harder way and show you as non cooperative. Your choice."

After several seconds of thought, Doug swore under his breath and walked over to the bed. Making certain they could see his every move, he knelt in front of the suitcase and rotated the numbers on the lock until the proper six-digit code was displayed. Closing his eyes, he pushed the button and listened to his life end with an audible click.

Stepping back, he let the police remove the specialized equipment from its compartments before discovering the diamond necklace in a pouch inside a box at the bottom. The Detective came back to Doug. "Douglas Wallace, you're under arrest for homicide and grand theft. You have the right-"

As the Detective pulled out the handcuffs, Doug interrupted. "I understand and waive my rights, Detective. May I pull on a pair of pants first? And I need to contact my lawyer."

****************

**New York City, New York**

She had her own apartment in the city, furnished just the way she liked it. But she had spent the past several nights, since arriving in the city, in her brother's smaller apartment. She slept on the coach, and Rose slept in one of the recliners. The police had the number for the apartment as well as her and her assistant's cell phones in case they found something.

She had finally managed to fall asleep last night, after hours of tossing and turning. Less then three hours later, she and Rose were awakened by a pounding on the apartment door. Slipping into a silk bath robe, she tossed Rose's to her and looked through the peephole. Two men in dark suits, holding out NYPD badges.

Her heart sank as she opened the door. The taller Detective looked at her with sympathy in his eyes. She knew what he would say before he opened his mouth. "Could you please come with us, Ms. Taylor?"

Looking down at her thin robe to hide the tears in her eyes, she stood aside and let them in. "Can you give us a couple minutes to get dressed first?"

Turning back to Rose, she saw the same horror reflected in the shorter woman's eyes. Being asked to accompany the Detectives could only mean one thing.

****************

**San Diego, California**

Doug sat in the dark office with his lawyer. Relaxing into his chair, he adjusted his light blue tie and refastened the navy blue jacket. He was letting his lawyer handle this meeting while his mind worked overtime.

The prosecution was seated on the other side of the table along with a shorter gentleman in a black suit and carrying a suitcase. The prosecutor leaned forward in his chair and opened the file on the table. "All right, Mr. Wallace. We've asked for this meeting in order to offer you a deal." Pushing back, he waved the black suited man forward. "Mr. Parkman represents the Pinehearst Company, a small genetics research firm. The deal involves them, and Mr. Parkman has asked to be allowed to present the terms to you in person."

Parkman stepped forward and sat down, pulling a file from his briefcase. "Good afternoon, Mr. Wallace. As the prosecutor, Mr. Williams here, told you, I represent Pinehearst. We've followed your case for the past week or so, and we believe we have something to offer that might be beneficial to yourself and the State."

Doug's lawyer leaned forward. "What are you offering?"

Pulling out a set of papers, looking suspiciously like a contract, Parkman smiled. "The offer is quite simple. The case will be dismissed in exchange for your cooperation with a genetics trial, authorized by the FDA, at the Pinehearst facilities."

Raising his eyebrow, the lawyer bounced his gaze between Parkman and the prosecution team. "Dismissed?"

The lead prosecutor, Mr. Williams, leaned forward again. "Completely. If he signs on with Pinehearst for the purposes of the genetic trial, the case will vanish." Leaning back again, he smiled. "Don't get me wrong. We have Mr. Wallace cold with the grand theft charge. And the guard died during that robbery. That means we have your client, at the least, on accidental homicide." Fixing Doug in his gaze, he dropped the smile. "If you force us to take this to court, you'll be lucky to only get forty years."

Leaning forward again, he shrugged. "I'm not pleased with this, but I'm being pressured to offer you this deal. You take it, and you're their problem. As far as New York is concerned, you're a free man."

****************

**New York City, New York**

She stared at the white sheet in the morgue in anxious horror. Rose stood beside her, tightly clasping her hand, trying to give her the strength to get through this moment.

At a nod from the Detectives, the Medical Examiner took the edge of the sheet and pulled it down to reveal the body. When Raven saw the the corpse on the cold table, she collapsed to her knees with a shriek.

Kneeling beside her, Rose wrapped her arms around the sobbing woman. When the Detective looked down, Rose nodded. "That's her brother." Glancing down briefly, she looked back at the Detective. "What happened?"

With a sympathetic voice, he shrugged. "We're not honestly sure. We'll know when the autopsy results come back, but the general appearance of the body as well as where he was found indicate an overdose."

Raven looked up in anger. "Never! Paulo was a good man. He rarely drank. He sure as hell never did drugs!"

Blinking quickly, the Detective partially backed off the accusation. "As I said, we'll know how he died when the autopsy results come in."

****************

**San Diego, California**

After a long discussion with his defense attorney, Doug entered the small office alone. "I'll take the deal. Anything to stay out of jail." _A research lab has to be easier to escape from than the maximum security cell that's waiting for me otherwise._

Parkman smiled quietly to himself as he pulled out the needed forms. "Very well. Just sign these, and we can move on to the next phase."

****************

**New York City, New York**

They were back in Paulo's apartment. Raven had collapsed onto the bed as soon as they entered. After making sure she was as comfortable as the situation would allow, Rose took it on herself to order and pay for dinner.

Taking it back to the bedroom, she looked down at where Raven lay, clutching an old picture of her brother and weeping. "Supper's here, Raven."

Looking up through tear filled eyes, Raven just stared. "Not hungry."

Rose sighed. "You need to eat, Raven. You're no good to anyone if you're sick."

Raven shrugged and held the picture tighten to her chest. "It doesn't matter anymore. Someone killed Paulo, and nobody even cares."

"Damn it, Raven! You're going to eat if I have to fucking force feed you!" She'd only seen Raven this depressed once before; several years previously when her father died. _And Paulo was there for her when that happened._

Sitting on the bed, she took Raven's hands in her own. "Do you honestly think your brother would want you to starve yourself to death?"

Closing her eyes briefly, Raven nodded and sat up. "I guess I'll eat something, Rose."

It wasn't until a couple hours after they had eaten that Raven explained what she meant by her earlier statement. "I don't care what the police, or that ME, said, Rose; Paulo didn't overdose. At least not willingly."

Taking a drink, Rose shrugged. She knew how hard the death of someone that close could be to accept. Her girlfriend had been killed a couple years ago by a drunk driver. Raven had helped her through that. _Now it's my turn to help her._ "The ME sounded positive, Raven. They found the track marks."

"That's just it, Rose." Raven brushed the tears away with one hand. "Paulo was terrified of needles. He'd nearly pass out getting blood drawn. Even if he was going to do drugs, and he had nothing but contempt and pity for those who did, he would never have injected them."

Rose thought about it for a minute. She knew Raven well enough to know she wasn't lying. _I __don't think she's even capable of it. And she's always been able to read people._ "If you're right, who would want to kill him? And why?"

Raven stared into her cup of coffee for several minutes. "I don't know." Looking back up, she absently scratched at her arm. "Do we still have the number for that private investigator.?"

"The one who was able to prove that guy was sleeping with underage talent under the guise of a modeling scout?" Thinking quickly, she nodded. "I'm pretty sure I still have it written down somewhere. Why?"

Brushing away more tears, she let Rose see the anger that was building. "Because after Paulo's funeral, I want to see if he can find who killed him."


	3. Chapter 2: August to November, 2006

_**August**_

**Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Doug looked around the sterile white room. He was wearing the Pinehearst exercise suit, a deep purple tank and shorts body suit, and still trying to decide if the deal had been the smart one.

Parkman had brought him to the room after making the deal, then promptly vanished. Since then he'd had a constant parade of doctors and technicians coming in, sometimes several times a day, to take readings and measurements that he couldn't even begin to understand.

Just as he was about to lay down on the hard bed and try to get some sleep, the man he had been introduced to as Doctor Livitz came through the door. "It's time, Mr. Wallace."

****************

**San Diego, California**

College had only started three days ago. _And I'm already buried under a ton of work._ Relaxing in the grass outside the main building, she opened her books and began reading and taking notes. She didn't look up when a shadow blocked the sun. It was only after the arrival cleared his throat that she took her eyes off the books in front of her.

Two men in charcoal suits stood in front of her. Raising an eyebrow, she put down her pen. "Can I help you?"

The slightly taller man looked down at her through black sunglasses. "Blythe Anders?"

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to figure out who the two men were. _Not military._ _Bearing's all wrong. _"That's me."

"Would you be willing to come with us?"

Raising an eyebrow, she breathed out a quiet laugh. "Not without a damn good reason."

The slightly darker of the two men removed his sunglasses to reveal piercingly blue eyes. With a perfect smile, he tried to explain. "Do you prefer Ms. Anders? Or may I call you Blythe?"

"Blythe, for right now. What do you want?"

"As my partner said, Blythe, we'd like you to come with us."

"Why?"

Laughing, he shrugged. "That did sound a little ominous, didn't it?" Pulling out his wallet, he showed her his ID. "My name's Richard Burnquist. My loquacious partner here is Robert Daniels. We're only here because our employer has taken an interest in you. He asked us to see if you would be interested in meeting him."

Closing her textbooks, she crossed her arms. "A meeting?"

After putting his wallet away, he nodded. "That's all. If you like what he has to say, you may have a job. If you don't like what he has to say, we take you wherever you want and you never hear from us again."

Absentmindedly biting the end of her pen, she considered her options. "What if I refuse to go?"

Moving his shoulders in a gesture of indifference, he flashed a half grin. "We tell our boss you weren't interested and you never see us again."

She already made her decision, but had one more question. "How do I know I can trust you?"

Sliding his glasses back into place, he looked down at her. "Honestly? You don't. But, unless I miss my guess, you're pretty good at reading people, Blythe. Are we lying?"

She thought about it for several minutes. "All right. Just let me get my stuff together."

****************

**London, England**

At the knock on the trailer's restroom door, Raven shut off the water and wrapped in a large towel. "Yes?"

Rose opened the door. In her right hand was a large manila envelope. "I just found this on the steps. I asked around, but nobody saw who left it."

Taking the offered envelope in one manicured hand, Raven glanced at the front. The only words, in small letters scrawled across the top, were **From: A Friend**.

Glancing back at her assistant, she arched one sculpted eyebrow. "Nobody saw who dropped it off?" When Rose shook her head, Raven glanced at the envelope and walked into the small kitchen area. Taking a small knife, she cut open the flap. Inside was a grainy black and white photograph and a short note.

Raven took one look at the picture and collapsed against the sink in tears. It showed her brother strapped to what looked like an operation table. His face was contorted as he screamed in obvious agony. Multiple needles connected to bags of a dark liquid were attached to his arms and legs.

The time stamp indicated it had been taken by a security camera less than forty-eight hours after Paulo had disappeared.

Wrapping one arm around her in a comforting hug, Rose carefully took the photograph and note from Raven's shaking hand and glanced quickly at the note. Short and to the point, it was scrawled in the same handwriting as the envelope.

**If you want to know more, meet me tomorrow at noon over the Traitor's Gate in front of ****the Tower of London.**

****************

**Fort Lee, New Jersey**

He had been stripped, bathed, dried, then strapped to a cold table. His hair had been shaved and several different measurement devices, only a few of which he recognized, had been attached to various places on his head, chest, arms and legs.

Dr. Livitz had pretty much ignored him since bringing him into the room. Instead, he was speaking with one of his aides. "Which batch is this?"

After consulting the notes, the aide muttered. "One-sixteen beta, Doctor."

"Excellent. Let's begin the process."

Doug winced as they placed an IV in his left carotid artery, and another in his right wrist. Dr. Livitz looked at him and smiled slightly. "I'm afraid this is going to hurt. Quite badly."

Doug raised a questioning eyebrow as they opened the lines and let the dark serum flow into his arteries. The unspoken question was short lived as the serum hit his bloodstream.

He opened his mouth in a soundless scream as liquid fire was poured into his body.

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Burnquist and Daniels ushered her into the small office inside the Primatech Paper facility. As they left she dropped her bag on the floor and sat down. Looking at the man behind the desk, she almost laughed. "I guess you're why I'm here? So what do you want with me?"

Removing his glasses, the dark haired man rubbed the bridge of his nose. Opening one of the file on his desk, he slid the glasses back in place. "Ms. Anders, correct?" When she nodded, he cleared his throat. "My name's Gael Cruz, and you can call me either one. As to why you're here? Simply put, we want to offer you a job."

"Working for a paper company? Sorry, Cruz, but that sounds even less interesting than the job I already have."

"You work as a waitress at a local San Diego diner, don't you?" At her shocked expression, he smiled. "I believe the two who accompanied you informed you about the interest we have in you? Once you had risen to our attention, we ran a small check into you." Seeing her stunned look fading into anger, he raised a hand and didn't give her time to interrupt. "Nothing major or particularly invasive, mind you." _No need to tell her just how deep we went with the backgrounder._ "We just needed to find out if you were what we were looking for." Grinning slightly, he gave a short jerk of his head. "The truth is, you more than meet our requirements."

"What's the job?"

"We'll get to that in a minute. There are a couple things we need to make clear for you first. The first thing is employment here is by invitation only. We don't accept just anyone. The second, and possibly most important, is, although I can't promise you'll like everything you're asked to do, assuming you accept the invitation, what we can offer you is a life of meaning."

Crossing her arms, Blythe repeated her earlier question. "Fine. So what's the job?"

Pressing the intercom button on his phone, he said, "Could you send Bianca in?" Smiling again, he closed her folder. "I think your question will best be answered during the tour, Blythe."

****************

**London, England**

They were standing over the Traitor's Gate, pretending to be two lovers taking a stroll around the city. Europe had long been more accepting of alternate life styles than America, so the occasional hug or kiss between Raven and Rose was barely noticed.

As they walked away from the Traitor's Gate, a scruffy man in a battered overcoat joined them, seemingly out of nowhere. "Didn't expect two of you."

Stopping, Raven rested her hand on Rose's arm. "Who are you?"

With a bitter grin, he glanced around. "Not as dumb as you look, I guess. Just call me a friend for now. I'm not particularly interested in broadcasting my name."

As they started walking again, Rose looked closely at the stranger. "Are you the one who dropped it off?"

He waited until they had rounded a corner and were temporarily alone. Suddenly he slammed them against the alley wall and clamped his hands over their throats. Leaning close, he whispered, "If you want to live, shut up and don't shake me loose." When both nodded, he dropped the hands down and grasped their arms.

Almost before he had his new grip secure, a man and woman in dark suits rounded the corner and stared down the alley in obvious shock. Ripping off his glasses, the man swore and looked at his shorter partner. "Where the hell'd they go? This alley's a fucking dead end!"

The woman scanned the alley, briefly looking right at the three pressed against the wall without seeming to see them, then turned to look back at the street. "Damned if I know. Was there anyone else with them?"

"Just the old guy in the coat."

"Fuck! Parkman's not gonna be happy with this."

After they left, the man dropped his grip and started walking away. Grabbing his arm, Rose whispered in stunned horror, "Who the hell were they?"

Looking at her, then at Raven, he shrugged his arm free. "Pinehearst. Tag along if you want to know more."

****************

**Fort Lee, New Jersey**

The serum was fully emptied into his bloodstream. It felt like his body was on fire. The pain went beyond anything he could imagine.

His heart was pounding like a trip hammer, causing the fire that had been his blood to course through his body at an unimaginable rate. His head felt like it was going to explode.

He slipped into convulsions, nearly tearing free of the restraints. It took every person in the room to hold him still long enough to force something into his mouth so he wouldn't bite or swallow his tongue.

His vision turned red from burst vessels in his eyes, then it began to fade. His heart rate increased still further, his lungs working like a bellows to bring in the oxygen that suddenly seemed in such short supply.

Just as he was convinced he was dying, he dropped into unconciousness.

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Blythe hadn't been able to stop looking around since exiting the elevator into the lower lobby; a level only reached when Bianca used her elevator key. "This doesn't look much like a paper company."

Bianca laughed quickly. "Probably because it isn't." Leading Blythe through a maze of offices, she opened a door and ushered her inside. Turning on the lights, she watched as Blythe looked around in bewilderment. "Before you ask, we'll get to the tour in a bit. I'm supposed to give you a brief rundown on what we do here first." Wincing, she shrugged. "This might be easier if we have a frame of reference. Did you ever watch reruns of that old show, Knight Rider?"

Thinking quickly, Blythe dropped her bag and leaned against the wall. "Yeah. My father loved the show, and I remember watching some of the episodes with him. Why?"

"Remember that Michael Knight, the guy Hasselhoff played, worked for an organization?"

"Yeah. F.L.A.G., or something like that." Blinking, she cocked her head. "You're not trying to tell me this is something like that, are you? Taking out problems the official government either doesn't know about or can't be involved in?"

Bianca laughed again. "Something like that. The Organization doesn't have initials, but the mission is much the same. There are threats, dangers, that the general public, even the government, is largely unaware of. The Company was founded several years ago with an eye toward containing, sometimes eliminating, those threats. There are a few other differences, aside from the obvious fact that F.L.A.G. was fictional." Shrugging, she smoothed her dark slacks. "The first is we don't believe one man, or one woman, can make a difference. We have hundreds of Agents around the globe, all working toward the same goal."

Standing up, she pressed a button on the wall. Lights flickered on behind what had seemed to be a mirror. "And instead of a talking, high tech, car, we have toys like these."

In amazement, Blythe walked over to the wall. The items she could identify included handcuffs, stun collars, nasal drug delivery systems, modified forty-fives and what looked like high-powered tasers. There were also what Blythe identified as melee weapons such as a basic baton and what seemed to be a stun baton. Beyond those weapons, her knowledge failed. Dozens more lay behind that glass case, for apparently any situation that might possibly unfold.

Grinning to herself, Blythe admitted she had already made her decision.

****************

**London, England**

Raven sat beside Rose across the small table from the man who had introduced himself as Claude. He sat near a man and woman he had introduced as Lee and Abigail. Taking a sip of warm tea, Raven leaned forward slightly. "You said those two were with a group called Pinehearst? Who were they after and why?"

Abigail looked at him in surprise. "Who the hell's Pinehearst?"

Rolling his eyes, Claude drank in silence for a second. "It's supposedly a genetics lab. That's obviously a front for something much darker. Hell, they seem to make Primatech look like a bloody daycare."

Rose blinked quickly. "Wait a second. I've heard of Primatech. Aren't they a paper company or something?"

"And I'm Mary, Queen of the bleeding Scots!" Standing up, he backed away from the table. "Pay attention. I'm not wasting time doing this more than once. You want to know why they couldn't see us?" Smirking, he vanished. From the empty space he had occupied, his voice said, "This is why.

After he reappeared and sat down, he took a long look at the stunned faces across the table. "Before you waste my time saying what just happened is impossible, it's not. There are people like me all around the world; more every day. Some of us turn invisible, some of us fly, some of us heal ourselves or others, I've even seen a couple capable of illusions. Abigail here can create forcefields. Basically, most of us have a unique gift. Mine's invisibility. Primatech made it their mission to track and attempt to control the manifestations. Sometimes people vanished. Sometimes they were killed." Shrugging, he took a drink of his tea. "That's part of why I hid Abigail when I stumbled across her several years back. She wasn't a threat, and I knew they'd try to control her. I hid others too, but Abigail's the one that got me caught. My boss found out I was hiding someone, and had my partner try to kill me." Rubbing his chest, he winced in memory. "Damn near succeeded too."

Raven closed her eyes for a second, trying to accept the changes that had been forced into her worldview. "Fine, I guess. But what's Pinehearst doing in the mix? And why are they after Rose and I? And why'd they take my brother and kill him? None of us can do anything special. No powers."

Grinning, he shrugged. "There was a rumor when I was working for Primatech about a serum they used to use. Supposedly it had been used to successfully grant people abilities. When your PI started making noise and getting close to Pinehearst, a friend told me about it. That's how I got the picture to give you." Setting the cup down, he frowned. "Sounds like Pinehearst is trying to figure out the blasted formula on their own. That's why your brother was taken. And he wasn't the only one. From what I was hearing, there have been a few thousand people taken from around the world. All of them test subjects. Most of them are dead now."

Staring at Raven until she became uncomfortable, he grinned again. "They were after you because you started making noise. You didn't buy the drug overdose story, and hired someone to look into it. They can't have that, so they want to grab you. At a guess, you'll end up as another test subject and drug overdose."

Raven sat back in shocked horror. "They wouldn't dare. I'm not a random person they can just grab off the street. Not to sound too egotistical, but people would know if I vanished, and nobody would believe the overdose story with me."

"You're probably right. So you'll probably end up a suicide or an accidental death, or even a murder victim." Leaning forward, he rested his arms on the table and dropped his voice. "Understand this, Raven Taylor, Pinehearst wants you out of the way. And they'll stop at nothing to do it." Darting his eyes quickly at Rose, he continued. "That includes using anyone, and anything, you care about to get to you. Your life, as you know it, is over."

Raven narrowed her own eyes in anger. "What makes you think I'm such an easy target? And trust me, they don't want me nearly as much as I want them."

"You're an easy target because you're Raven fucking Taylor. All they have to do is wait for you to be alone after a shoot, or fake one up for you, and you're their's. Hell, they damn near had you today. And would have if I hadn't shown up to save your asses." Leaning back, he glanced at Abigail and Lee before looking back at them. "Are you serious about wanting to get them?"

"As a heart attack." Raven's eyes were nearly as cold as her voice. Her grief was rapidly chilling into a cold rage inside her.

"We do this my way, and with my rules. Or you go back to your life and wait to get grabbed. Just to let you know, my way's not easy and it takes time."

Raven looked at Rose in silence for several minutes. Finally, Rose nodded and grasped her hand. Breathing deeply, Raven looked back at Claude. "All right. What do you want us to do?"

****************

**Fort Lee, New Jersey**

He awoke back in his cell, still nude and coated in sweat.

Blinking slowly, he pushed himself upright, holding his head as the room seemed to spin around him. _What the fuck happened in there?_

Once the room stopped moving, he looked around. A new Pinehearst exercise outfit had been laid out for him to wear, but he wasn't quite ready for that. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and walked, slowly and carefully, into the small shower they allowed in his room.

As he closed his eyes, he realized something new. He could sense every shadow in his cell. Opening his eyes, he got under the hot water pouring out of the shower head and looked around. Almost without realizing, he reached his hand toward the shadow he cast on the wall. He couldn't fully explain the feeling, but it almost felt like the shadow was a part of him.

He fell backwards in horror when the shadow moved with an oily grace toward him.

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Blythe trailed along behind Bianca during the tour, looking around at the place she knew she was going to call home. When they made it back to the small office, Bianca perched herself on the desk again. "So, what'd you think?"

Blythe smiled tightly. "I think I want to sign up."

Bianca grinned briefly in return. _As always, Gael knew exactly the buttons to push, and which order to push them in._ "Great. We'll deal with the paperwork in a little while. First, I need to let you know what's coming in the weeks ahead."

Pushing the button and lighting the display again, she waved at them. "The easy part is you'll learn how to use every tool in that display; and your instructor won't be satisfied until you're an expert with all of them."

Shutting off the display, she walked around Blythe. "You look like you're in good physical condition."

Slightly uncomfortable under the other woman's appraising stare, Blythe shrugged. "I exercise."

"Good. Because the physical aspect of your training won't be easy. Your trainer will work you until you wish you were dead. Then they'll push for more. We've designed a system that makes the military basic training look like a high school's aerobics program. They won't go easy on you just because you're on your rag. By the time they've finished your physical and hand to hand training, you'll be in a shape to cause envy in Olympic athletes, and you'll be as dangerous unarmed as armed."

Grabbing a thing file from the desk, she scanned through it. "I may have been wrong saying the weapon's training would be the easy part for you. Based on your High School grades, the academic aspect may be even easier." Looking up, she narrowed her eyes in thought. "What was your major?"

Blinking at the sudden change in topic, Blythe thought for a second. "I hadn't actually declared yet. I was considering Business or Accounting."

"I think we can do better than that. With the training you'll be receiving, combined with the missions you'll be assigned, you wouldn't have time for a normal class schedule anyway. Instead, you'll receive a college level education here, complete with a totally authentic degree. Any specialized education you may need while working for us will also be supplied."

Assuming a completely serious expression, Bianca brushed her long hair back over her shoulders. "Any questions?"

After a second's thought, Blythe flashed a grin. "When do I start?"

****************

**London, England**

Raven sat in the back of the car with Rose. Now that the moment had come, she was getting nervous. "Are you sure this will work?"

Abigail looked back from the driver's seat. "Yes. More importantly, Claude is."

The plan was a simple one. Abigail had driven the car onto the tracks then deliberately stalled it. Claude and Lee were on their way with three badly burned corpses, roughly the same size as Raven, Rose and Abigail. Raven hadn't been willing to ask where they were getting them.

The fuel tank was rigged with a small leak. The hope was the spark from initial impact when the train hit would ignite the fuel and destroy the bodies inside.

The knock on her window startled her. Glancing out, she watched Claude materialize. One hand was grasping Lee, who was holding a small wheelbarrow. Raven's eyes shuddered away from the contents.

When the three women were out of the car, Claude and Lee replaced them with the corpses. After that was done, Rose and Raven put enough items to identify them on the floor of the backseat. Then they took hands so Claude could make them all invisible and took the wheelbarrow away.

They were nearly back to the Lee and Abigail's apartment when the train hit.

In a cloud of black smoke and fire, to the sound of screeching train tires and crumbling metal, Raven Taylor and Rose Harkness died.

****************

**Fort Lee, New Jersey**

It had been a couple days now since the incident in the shower. He had learned to control, to a degree, the mysterious connection he had with shadows. He found that it wasn't simply his own shadow, but all shadow.

He sat on the bed, idly twisting a nearby patch of darkness into various shapes, when Parkman approached his cell. "It's called Umbrakinesis, and I think it's the first time we've seen it."

Doug immediately dropped his connection with the shadow and leaped to his feet. Striding over to the door, he screamed, "What the FUCK did you do to me?"

Parkman looked up into his face, still safe behind the virtually unbreakable glass. "Only what we said would happen. We wanted you for genetics experimentation, precisely as the deal you signed said." Opening the door, he held out another contract.

"Now, if you're interested, Pinehearst would like to employ you. We can make use of the unique abilities you had before we injected you, and we can teach you to control the ability you were given."

"And if I don't sign?"

Parkman sighed. "I hope you enjoy your cell. Because you won't be leaving." Pushing the contract back at Doug, he smiled. "But Pinehearst is willing to make sure you become wealthier than you ever were, and completely outside of the reach of the law, if you accept the new deal."

_**

* * *

November**_

**New York City, New York**

Standing in his campaign headquarters, Robert Malden sipped champaign and watched the numbers coming in. His campaign advisor, and frequent lover, Tracy Strauss stood beside him. Glancing over at her, he smiled. "Looks like you were right, Tracy. When I take your advice, good things happened. I wasn't sure I was going to win this one."

Laughing, she tossed her long blond hair over her shoulders before smoothing her dark red dress. "I only advise, Congressman. It's the way you put it in action that made the difference."

He was about to suggest going somewhere private for a more intimate celebration when he saw a young woman with short blond hair weaving through the crowd. His smile broadened into a wholly authentic one. Wrapping his daughter in a massive hug, he lifted her briefly off the ground. "How's my favorite daughter?"

Laughing, Elizabeth straightened her gray skirt and jacket. "Better now that I know we're winning. The polling numbers had me a little worried."

Tracy forced a grin. She'd never been much for family, but knew she needed to at least attempt to get along with the Governor's daughter if she wanted to stay in his good graces. _And that's where the power is._ "How go the classes?"

Elizabeth shrugged. "Pretty easy. I learned more working on Dad's campaign than the professors have been teaching this term."

Robert glanced at the monitors as the last numbers started rolling in. Setting down his champagne, he straightened his tie. "Guess I'd better go thank the troops."

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

Connie and Penny Logan were spending a rare day out as mother and daughter. As usual, it had not been going well. Penny had been dragged along with her mother as she went for her monthly botox injections and then to the new boutique, where Connie spent several thousand on clothing more suitable to a woman half her age.

As they left, Connie looked back at her daughter. "I know you don't like plastic surgery, or even care for me using my ability on you, but I really wish you'd at least trim those damned eyebrows and maybe take a little time and learn how to use makeup. It'd do you a world of good."

Rolling her eyes, Penny shifted her grip on the packages. "For the last time, Connie, I don't want to be just another face. I want to be respected for what I can do, not for how I look."

Shaking her head, Connie unlocked the car and slid her armload of bags inside. "After dealing with you all day, I could use a drink."

Dumping her bags in the backseat, Penny shrugged. "First good idea you've had all day."

Nobody knew the fighting between them was mostly an act. Connie smirked under a mask of irritation. _Getting the Company to recruit Penny. Having Penny "betray" me to the Company. Even our endless fighting. All of it to get me in a place where I can free Julien from these bastards._

She would never forgive Gael for his betrayal. And Primatech must also be made to pay. She had resolved that she would bring the Company down for what it had done.

As they entered the bar, a voice seemed to issue from the darkness. "Go to the back of the bar. Order whatever you want. You'll have company shortly."

Looking around, the senses drilled into both of them by their training coming fully alert, they tried to find the source of that whisper. Connie narrowed her eyes. "Who are you? And why should I meet anyone you're sending?"

"Julien."

After a quickly exchanged glance, Connie and Penny did as the voice had instructed. Seconds after they had both received their drinks, two men approached the table. Though both were similar suits, dark grey with a light blue shirt beneath, that was the end of the similarities.

The shorter man was overweight and balding, with a doughy and nervous face. The taller one was built like an athlete, and had an easy smile under dark brown hair and blue-gray eyes. He was the one who spoke. "There's no easy way to start this, so I'm just going to introduce us and let you know why we're here. I'm Doug Wallace, and this is Maury Parkman. Like I said by the door, we're here about Julien."

Connie narrowed her eyes. "What do you want with him?"

Maury laughed nervously. "Nothing, actually. It's what you want with him that interests us."

Penny glanced at her mother in concern. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Doug raised an eyebrow. "You don't? Then let's spell it out. Primatech is keeping Julien sedated in a special wing off Level Five and they're force-growing clones for Company use." At the gasps from mother and daughter, he grinned. "We also know the two of you don't hate each other quite as much as people think, and that you joined Primatech only to find a way to bring them down and free Julien."

Connie took a drink of her beer. "All right. So you know, or think you know, everything. What do you want."

Maury stepped in again. "To help. If you continue doing it your way, you'll both die and so will Julien and countless others. With our help, you'll both stand a much better chance of survival and Julien will be freed."

Connie thought about it for several minutes. "All right. I'll accept what you're saying for argument's sake. What do you want from us?"

Maury grinned in relief. He hadn't been as sure about this as Arthur had been. "Your help. We want you two to stay with the Company. There will come a time in the near future that Pinehearst, the group we work for, will take them down. Until then, we need to keep tabs on them."

Penny glanced around the bar quickly, breathing a sigh of relief that no other Primatech employees were around. "How do we get anything useful to you? And how will we know when you need us?"

Shrugging, Maury let his face assume it's naturally nervous expression. "I'm a telepath. I'll contact you if there's something Pinehearst needs that you can get for us. And I'll occasionally check in with you telepathically to find out if you have anything you think we need."

Connie stared at her daughter for a long minute. "All right, but I need assurances."

Doug nodded. "About Julien? Consider them made. Pinehearst would be interested in employing Julien, but we have no interest in Primatech's methods. Once he's freed from their machines, he will be free to either work for us, along with you and Penny, or to stay out of it all together." Holding up his finger, he prevented either of them from interrupting. "Also, once Pinehearst has taken Primatech out of the equation, you will both be free to leave, should you desire. No questions asked."

After another silent exchange with her daughter, Connie threw back her beer. "If that's the deal, I'll take it."

Penny grinned a particularly wolfish grin. "If it frees Dad and takes down this bastard Company, I'm in."

****************

**Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur lay in his bed, hooked to the machines that were keeping his body alive.

Had he been able to move, he would have laughed. All his plans were coming together. Pinehearst was growing and the formula neared perfection. Only a few problems yet to overcome for it to be completely effective.

The part of his mind not enmeshed in the schemes to make the world over in the way he saw fit was floating free. Over the years he had liberated many abilities. One of those was the ability to spirit walk. He could cross the world, unseen and unheard, and witness what was happening.

Now he arrived in Kirby Plaza just in time to see that fool Linderman's dream undone. His son, Nathan, took Peter in his arms and launched into the night sky which was torn apart by the explosion.

Returning to his body, he gloated in having been proven right. _The plan would have worked if Angela had listened to me, and understood. Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good._


	4. Chapter 3: January, 2007

_**January**_

**Primatech Research, California**

"Did you receive the shipment?"

"Yes."

"You know what must be done?"

"I'm still not sure why. There was a reason we stopped doing this even before I joined the Company."

"The girl has a part to play. This is why I had you recruit her in the first place." The voice vanished as the connection broke.

Gael stared at his phone in silence for several more minutes. Sighing heavily, he hung up and called the medical wing. "Do it."

****************

**London, England**

Wrapping her legs around the pole, Raven released it with her hands, holding herself in place with the pressure of her thighs on the cold steel. While **Cold as Fire** blasted over the club's speakers, her fingers found the clasp of the leather bra and unfastened it. Carefully reducing the pressure of her legs against the stripper pole, she slid to the floor. Her dark hair pooled on the ground beneath her.

At the last second, she dropped her arms to the floor and pushed away from the pole, landing with her legs flat behind her. Pushing herself up, leaving the bra on the floor, she folded her knees under herself and arched backward. Thrusting her bare breasts at the ceiling, she tipped her head back and, smiling seductively, surveyed the crowd behind her.

After faking their deaths, she and Rose had taken on new identities and been forced to look for work and a place to live. Claude had spotted a Primatech agent and left almost immediately, claiming he was needed in the States for a while. He promised to return at some point after the New Year and teach them what he could of staying under cover.

After choosing their new identities, Eva Maddox for Raven and Hannah Crosby for Rose, they had found employment and a single bedroom apartment. Rose, with the skills that had made her a nearly perfect personal assistant, had no problem finding a job. Within a week, she was working as a highly paid secretary at a local law firm.

Raven had a harder time. The only job she'd held, aside from her modeling career, had been as a retail cashier during her Junior and Senior years in high school. After several weeks of looking, she temporarily took a job as a cocktail waitress. Less than a week into the new job, she knew she would need a larger income to help support herself and Rose. Her few marketable skills were all in fields Claude had assured her would be followed closely by Pinehearst.

She had stumbled across the hiring notice for the Crystal Palace Gentleman's Club almost by accident. The woman in charge of the talent couldn't wait to hire her, immediately sensing the increase in business such an addition to the group would bring.

Rising sinuously to her feet, Raven sauntered to the pole and began to dance as she teasingly snapped her leather thong. After more than two months, she could perfectly play the part her audience desired and loved. Filled to capacity, she knew more than half of them had come only to watch her perform as Lady Electra.

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

Penny followed her mother into the crowded bar, complaining about yet another day lost to botox and shopping. As they took their seats, Connie glared across the small table at her. "Oh, just shut the fuck up already. It wouldn't hurt you to pretend to be a girl for a while."

Once the drinks were ordered, Doug approached from a nearby booth. Speaking quietly, so his voice wouldn't carry over the nose, he smiled at Connie. "Just pretend I'm flirting with you."

Laughing quickly, a sound not reflected in her eyes, Connie glanced around the bar and laid a hand on his arm. "Where's your partner?"

"Maury? He couldn't get away from the office. He told me to take care of this meet for him. What've you got for us?"

"They've had Thompson's son, Blake, watching a potential recruit."

"All right? Why are we interested?"

Penny rolled her eyes. "If you want to weaken them, you interfere with the recruiting process. I haven't seen the file yet, but it looks like this one may have an ability. Grabbing her before the Company can will weaken them."

Thinking about it quickly, Doug flashed a grin and drained his beer. "I'll talk with Maury. I think I've got something in mind that'll work even better." _If I plan on getting out of here and on with my life, I need whoever's running this damn show to trust me. This may be the first step in that process._

****************

**Chennai, India**

Sanjog slept. In his dreams, he wandered through the world, listening for the silent call that said someone needed him to show them the truth.

This night, no one called. There was no need for him, so he drifted. His intangible form bounced through the dreamscape. Here, a young businessman dreamed of seducing the new secretary, never realizing that the secretary had the same dream. Smiling softly to himself, Sanjog linked the two dreams together. Under the influence of the shared dream, perhaps they would make the needed step when they met tomorrow.

There, a pair of newlywed dreamed of the life they were embarking on. With another smile, Sanjog watched them dream of raising a family and growing old together. As a man had told him not long after he manifested, an American who had since passed on, love was truly the strongest force in the universe.

Continuing his journey through this world that existed between what was real and what was imagination, where the extraordinary was common and the impossible became mundane, he stopped in horror.

He was looking over a vast plain, covered in a web the color of midnight. Inside the web, a massive spider, most reminiscent to him of Tolkien's Ungoliant, darted around. The creature would grab tiny figures, apparently people, in its front legs and place them in the web according to a hidden design. Some of the figures were tightly bound in a cocoon of the black webbing. Others were brought to the monster's multiple eyes for a careful inspection. Finding no place for them in its designs, the spider snipped the heads from some and left the bodies to rot. Others, it consumed completely.

Moving his eyes away from the ghastly scene, Iyer looked at the distant horizon. Vicious lightning tore through the ominously roiling clouds as distant rumbles of thunder grew steadily louder. Retreating from the terrifying vision, he sprinted through the dream world, seeking the safety that lay in consciousness.

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Blythe had received the call an hour previously. The Company needed her to come in for some additional testing. So she had quickly dressed and reported to the medical wing.

They had run her through a complete physical. The doctor had frowned at a thin scar along the side of her rib cage. "Nothing about this in your file. What happened?"

She shrugged. "Last month, we took someone down. He threw some kind of small knife at me before I could tase him."

"You didn't report it?"

"Why bother? He barely broke the skin."

The doctor frowned in thought. He vaguely remembered a Special they'd brought him for testing a few weeks ago. He'd had the unique and mostly pointless ability of launching thin shards of bone from either wrist with a nearly bullet-like force. _That's not a scar left by a cut. It has to be from where the shard tore along her side._ Nodding at the chair, he smiled. "Have a seat. We have some blood work to do, and then you'll be free to go."

Blythe slid back into her pants and sat in the indicated chair. She had barely seated when the doctor slapped binders over her arms, trapping her in the chair. Cursing, she tried to rip her hands away. All she managed was to cut her arms on the steel cuffs. Shrieking like a wildcat, she tried to leap to her feet, but the chair was bolted in place. "What the FUCK are you doing to me?"

When he turned back around, she saw he held a syringe filled with a dark red fluid. Tapping out the air bubbles, he sighed and grabbed her left arm in a vise-like grip. "I'm truly sorry about this, Ms. Anders, but I have my orders." Without waiting for a reply, he jammed the needle into her vein. Her screams of rage and betrayal switched to ones of agony as the liquid raged through her veins like napalm.

Stepping back, he waited. He had been with the Company for nearly forty years. He had been through this before and knew almost exactly how long it would take. When she began convulsing, he disposed of the needle and picked up the phone. When she passed out, he made the call. "Mr. Cruz? It's done."

****************

**Albuquerque, New Mexico**

It had first happened when she was five. Her father died. She cried. And the heavens wept with her.

Many shrugged it away as coincidence. Some took it to be a sign, although they were never clear what it signified.

But the young daughter of Soaring Eagle knew the truth. She felt the connection in a way she could not describe. It wasn't coincidence, and it hadn't been a sign. The skies wept because she did. The rain fell because tears were not enough to express Sparrow Redhouse's grief.

It happened again several years later. Sparrow had gone through puberty, and developed an athletic but thoroughly womanly body that men noticed. Two drunken Anglos saw her while she was visiting friends off the tribe's land.

Staggering toward her, they made it clear what they meant to do. When she tried to run, they grabbed her. As the pawed at her, the skies opened once again.

This time rain did not come. Lightning fell instead. Twin bolts of coruscating energy were sent crashing down with lethal force. Her assailants died instantly.

Again, some took it as a remarkable coincidence. Some few believed it to be a sign that the child was marked by the old gods. As she had ten years earlier, Sparrow recognized the truth.

The lightning had not been sent by gods she didn't even believe in, and it was more than simple coincidence that left her unscathed while her attackers were burned in the electricity. The lightning had come because she called for it.

It happened again three short years later. As she writhed under the tender caress of her lover's hands, a breeze began to gust through the desert outside. As she moaned under his teasing and probing tongue, the breeze built into a heavy wind. As he slid inside, thrusting her into a spine-numbing climax, the wind kicked up a furious sandstorm, roaring through the desert and giving voice to her breathless orgasm.

Now she stood under the midnight sky, nude and with her luxurious raven hair flowing down her back, stopping just above her hips. The rain ran in rivulets down her bronze flesh, dripping from her nose, chin and breasts.

It had been twenty years since that day at her father's graveside. In that time her power had grown and strengthened, as had her understanding of it. She could feel each shift in the weather patterns around her. She could call up the wind with a flick of her wrists, and forge a raging thunderstorm on a cloudless day.

The elements had no effect on her. She could face a raging blizzard, dressed the same as she was now, and not be uncomfortable. She'd done exactly that while attending University in Montana. She could also stand in the desert sun, completely unprotected, and not break into a sweat.

After graduation, she returned home. The desert was in her blood, her ancestors had lived there for centuries, and, even though she had loved the mountains and forests of Montana, she felt the call of the arid desert on her soul.

Upon returning, she made a life for herself. Although she didn't believe in the old gods, and thought a return to the old ways was neither desirable nor possible, she had been raised to cherish the earth as the Mother from which all life came. That love of nature had been strengthened by her ability, so she took a job teaching conservation and respect for the planet.

None of that was on her mind tonight, though. Eyes closed and mind free, she stood as still as a rock under the desert storm. She gloried in the rain falling around her. Her spirit soared on the wind and crashed to the earth on the lightning.

It was an experience she indulged herself in as often as possible. Feeling the fury pass over and around her gave her an almost orgasmic experience, and the intensity with which she felt everything from the tiniest drop of rain to the most powerful burst of thunder bordered on spiritual.

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

Blythe swam back to consciousness in a small room. Blinking awake, she looked around in confusion. She could feel the bindings on her arms and legs, strapping her onto the small table. It wasn't the medical wing where the Company had betrayed her, and it was unlike any of the normal cells she had seen in her time with them.

Trying not to panic, she looked down to see if she could work free of the bindings. What she saw caused a moan of terror to escape. Her clothing lay on the table, curved in all the right places. The cuffs holding her in place were wrapped around her ankles and wrists. The straps tying her down lay across her stomach.

But where the flesh should have been exposed at the wrists, ankles and stomach, there was emptiness. Searching her arms for the slightest visible trace of her presence, she found nothing but the surface to which she was bound.

With growing terror, she moved as much as she could. Running her thumbs along her fingertips, she could still feel flesh. The manacles chafed at her wrists and ankles. The cloth rubbed against her skin.

Unable to contain the terrified scream, she began to thrash against the bindings, demanding to be let out. At some point, she passed out.

****************

**Summersville, West Virginia**

Piper had wakened in a cold sweat. It had been an eerily familiar dream. According to the boy at the beginning, it was a dream she'd had several times before.

She was running through a dark, twisting, forest, hiding from the lights. Tripping over some branches, she fell and lost her glasses. Scrambling to find them, still trying to hide, she stumbled into a young man. Eyes darting around in fright, she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Who are you? What do you want?"

The dark haired boy spoke with the slightest trace of an accent, and with a calm that slightly eased her fear. "I mean you no harm. This place...it haunts you. The darkness it brings is like poison to your soul. You must expose the truth for what it is."

Suddenly, she felt the wind pick up and glanced overhead. Lights were rapidly moving toward her. "They're here!"

"They know you are special, and want to know your secrets. You must look within yourself to solve the mystery. It can help protect you from them."

The scene went black for a minute, and then she opened her eyes to look around. "Where am I?"

Moving her head around, she realized she was strapped to a cold table. Monsters, hideous and tentacled, moved through the room. One was busily staring into a machine she couldn't identify, pushing buttons and taking notes. Another was staring down at her through cold, emotionless eyes. Everywhere, the incomprehensible mutter of their alien language drifted on an antiseptic stench.

"Who...who's there? What are you doing to me?"

As one of the monsters waved its tentacles over her, an oddly familiar voice came from beside her. "Don't touch her!"

For some reason, that command caused the creatures to leave the room. Staring between her feet, the only things she could make out clearly without her glasses, she could make out a gray shadow walking toward her. In desperation, she whispered, "Please...please help me."

In silence, the shadow approached her. Before it spoke, it sat her missing glasses into place. "You don't need my help. You simply need to look to your past."

As he started to fade away, she called out, "Wait! Who are you and what the hell's going on?"

"You don't need my name. You need what you're about to see. You've been here before, Piper. Many times. This time, keep what you learn to yourself. Those who would try to help would alert those who wish you to remember nothing."

After he disappeared, she glanced at her binding. Steel cuffs held to the table by a bolt. She couldn't dislodge it, but thought she could almost reach it with her foot.

Concentrating, she slowly worked her leg over the edge of the hard table, and moved it back. Just when she'd reached the point where she didn't think it would stretch further, she felt it give with an oddly elastic feeling. Suddenly, it was no problem to bend her leg completely back and grasp the bolt between her toes. As she flung the bolt aside, she couldn't help watching as her leg resumed its normal position. _I can't believe I reached it._

After she rapidly used her freed hand to remove the bolts and cuffs from her other hand and feet, she stood up. After taking a moment to restore the circulation in her arms and legs, she started to walk toward the door. She didn't realize the other girl had gotten out until the voice called from outside the doorway. "Hey, over here!"

For just a second, she stared at the girl who had called her. Aside from the shorter hair and the fact that she wasn't wearing glasses it was like looking into a mirror. Same eyebrows, same eyes, even the same height and body build. Their hair was an identical shade of blonde. If she'd been born a twin, Piper would have expected her sister to look exactly like this teenager.

Before she could say anything, Piper saw the men she had mistaken for monsters coming back, and she saw them as they were. A black man, completely bald, and a man in horn-rimmed glasses. They stopped when they saw her standing near the doorway, then began running after her.

Without thinking twice, she sprinted down the hall with the other girl beside her. They didn't have the breath to speak, but her mind was working overtime. When they reached the windows at the end of the hall, they tried to force them open. Watching her near-twin struggling to open a window, Piper fought with her own. "That one's locked. Try the other one."

Before she knew it, her window snapped open. Although only opened a couple of inches, it was enough. Before she went through, she threw a look at the other girl. "Who are you? Why are you helping me?"

Resting a hand on her arm, the girl gave her a serious look. "I'm your sister, Debbie. We were separated at birth. This is my home, don't make it yours."

Barely a second later, Piper was through the opening. Spinning around, she thrust her arms back through the window. "Come on."

Blinking quickly, Debbie looked at the narrow opening. Shaking her head, she backed away slightly. "It's...too small. How did you...?"

Before she could finish her question, the black man and the man in horn-rimmed glasses caught up with her and pulled her away from the window. Throwing out a hand, she screamed, "Piper!"

"No!"

Before she realized what had happened, she was back in the forest, with the young man in front of her. "I have a sister? I'm not making that up?"

With a sad smile, he nodded. "Yes. Debbie is your twin sister. They grabbed her at birth, thinking she would be the one with a power. The black man you saw is capable of removing memories. It's why nobody knows about her. It's also why, no matter how much you may want to, you can not tell your parents she exists. Thinking they were helping you, they would bring you to the very people who don't want you remembering her."

"What do I do?"

"Remember. When the time is right, act on that memory and do what your heart requires."

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

The voice came from behind her, waking her with a start. "Hello, Ms. Anders."

When Blythe ran through the check she had done before passing out, the voice issued a dry laugh. "Yes, you are still physically present. You appear to have been granted a form of invisibility by our little injection. I must say, I'm a little surprised, my dear. Given your profile, I would have anticipated something a little more violent, certainly more visible."

Jerking her head around, Blythe tried to locate the owner of that cold voice. As the woman walked into view, Blythe recoiled slightly. Although not tall, the dark haired woman was imposing. She was obviously a person used to giving orders and having them obeyed. The smile playing across her lips did nothing to warm her face. As friendly as a pissed off cobra, _and probably more dangerous_, Blythe thought to herself. "Who the hell are you?"

Dropping the smile, the woman pulled the chair she had obviously been sitting in out where Blythe could see her as she sat down. Smoothing her skirt, she folded her hands sedately in her lap. "My name is Angela Petrelli, Ms. Anders. And I'm the reason you're here."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"It's time for you to learn the truth about the Company, Blythe. The people you've been, I believe the term you use is 'Bagging,' are not merely dangers the officials can't touch. They are dangers most people don't even know exist."

Despite not being able to see Blythe's face, the shocked, disbelieving silence spoke volumes. "There are those who have power, Ms. Anders. This Company was founded to police our kind, to keep the dangerous ones under control."

Blinking rapidly, Blythe fastened on those two words. "Our kind?"

"Yes. You are one of us now. The serum we injected you with was the last remaining dose of a formula we developed to grant power to those who deserved it.

"When you learned to control your gift, we will teach you to use it. And we will provide you with proper attire."

Blythe had been growing angrier listening to Angela speak. "What the hell did you fucking do to me? I was doing fine without this fucking thing!" _I refuse to call whenever the hell they did to me a gift!_

Angela stood and opened the door, preparing to leave. "We did what was necessary, Ms. Anders. There's a storm coming, and you'll need this thing, as you call it, if any one's going to survive."

As Angela closed the door and left her alone, Blythe made a silent vow. She would continue to play the good agent. She would master the ability they had forced on her. And then she would run and find a way to bring the Company down.


	5. Chapter 4: March, 2007

_**March**_

**Primatech Research, California**

Gael ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He had been a Company man for years, loyal nearly to the point of fanaticism. _Like Bennet_, he thought.

Unlike Bennet, however, he hadn't broken. Even after Linderman's plan collapsed and Bishop took the reins, he remained strong.

That's why what he was doing bothered him. There was a sickness somewhere in the Company that he couldn't find. But he could sense it. Not with any genetically granted talent, but with an intuition born from countless missions and years of running the daily operations so his superiors could keep looking at the big picture.

He had first noticed it with Sylar's capture. Instead of eliminating him or, at least, locking him away in Level Five, he had been ordered to have Bennet place him in one of the minimal security medical cells in the Odessa facility.

_To be honest, our mishandling of that nut job goes back even further. Back to when Bennet and Bishop's daughter were essentially ordered to break him._

After Sylar escaped, the Company had screwed up by not letting him die at Kirby Plaza. Instead, Bishop had ordered Candice to take him in for immediate surgery. Several surgeries, and nearly a million dollars, later, Candice had been ordered to drop off the grid for a while, taking Sylar with her.

Now it had fallen to Gael to clean up the mess his superiors had created. He had slowly, with great care and nearly painful caution, built his own problem solving team. Melodramatically named the Kill Squad, they existed on no paper or electronic trail, and answered only to him.

Sean Fallon, the leader, had been the easiest to recruit. The former military man had been part of the Company's clean up crew for years. As such, he had seen the kind of damage the uncontrollable Specials could cause.

He had fallen in love, or at least in lust, with the illusionist, Candice, only to lose her when that monster escaped custody. He was hungry for blood, but was at least manageable. Gael had given him a short list of names to recruit into the Squad, and placed him in charge.

Joseph Gallagher had been the brother-in-law of Ted Sprague. When he found out that Sprague had been responsible for Karen's death, even though it had not been deliberate, he had wanted nothing more than to kill the man. When Sylar beat him to it, he had grown bitter.

Lloyd Collins had been a police officer in Odessa, Texas. He had been friends with Charlene Andrews, viewing her much like the younger sister he'd never had. After Sylar killed her for her genetically enhanced memory, he had grown obsessed. Less than a month later, he had been ordered to turn in his badge and gun.

Tom Drake had been considered support personnel within the Company. Although efficient, he had never seriously been considered for promotion to Agent. When he had been briefly partnered with Eden McCain, he believed his break had finally arrived. After she killed herself to prevent Sylar from taking her ability, he lost control.

Gael rubbed at his forehead. Sean had personally recruited the other three into the Kill Squad. Gael knew all of them were bordering on insanity, but he also knew they blamed Specials in general, and Sylar in particular, for their problems. Sylar had robbed Sean of his love, Joseph of his revenge, Lloyd of his friend and job, and Tom of his opportunity.

They were all problems, but they were also perfectly suited to what Gael needed from them. Picking up the phone, he called Fallon's cell. "It's Cruz. Take Lewis to a location in Guyana. We need him to cover a spot that an explosive Special turned into a crater."

"He won't do it willingly. And I'm not sure he can cover an area that massive with his ability."

"Take Hawkins with you. She can force him to cover the crater."

"He won't live through it."

"And this is a problem, how?"

"Understood."

****************

**Odessa, Texas**

Nathan stood behind a small podium. Matt and Peter stood on either side of him, and a crowd of reporters were gathered in front of them. He wasn't used to not having a prepared speech, but what he was going to say was too important to wait. Clearing his throat he adjusted the mike. "Good afternoon. Most of you have no idea who I am. My name is Nathan Petrelli, and I was elected to Congress in the state of New York."

Drawing a deep breath, he looked at his brother for support. "Seems like a long time ago. I lost my position. I lost my brother. I lost my family. I'm sad to say that I lost my way. But while I was gone, I've had a chance to see the world through newly-humbled eyes, witnessed amazing things, seen ordinary people among us trying their best each day to be heroes. These ordinary people, like you, like me, are capable of extraordinary things. You have no idea how extraordinary.

"But there are other people, organizations, that don't want you to know the truth. I myself kept secrets. But last year something incredible happened to me, and it changed my life." Drawing a deep breath, he forced himself to continue. "At first, I was afraid. But I'm not afraid anymore. I'm here to tell you the truth. I have the ability to fly."

He watched as the reporters and other people attending the impromptu press conference stared at him in shock, then muttered among themselves in stunned amazement. He waited a couple more minutes than raised his hand for silence. "I know what you're thinking. It's much what I thought when I first found out that these abilities existed. However, I promise you I am telling you the truth. I've seen these abilities with my own eyes. Men capable of teleportation; women capable of healing themselves from even the most lethal of injuries; people capable of moving the heaviest objects using only their mind."

Smiling quickly at the disbelieving expressions and voices in his audience, Nathan stepped back from the podium. Slower than he ever had before, making certain that every eye could see him, he used his ability to float in the air hovering above the podium to prove that he was telling the truth. Landing where he'd begun, he stepped back to the podium. "Most of those with these abilities are innocent. They seek only to live the lives we have all taken for granted. When the situation calls for it these men and women are capable of becoming heroes. Unfortunately, there are also those who would use their ability for evil. I have seen firsthand the lengths to which some will go. My brother, Peter, was nearly murdered by a serial killer who uses his ability to hunt and kill others with abilities. My brother, myself, and Officer Parkman barely succeeded in preventing a lunatic from unleashing a virus which only he and a handful of others would be capable of surviving."

He paused, briefly considering making a further comment about the plans he was considering. _No. Not right now. Time enough to let them in on what I want to set in motion after it's too late to stop it._

"I will be personally working toward making certain those innocents with abilities can live lives of peace, and that those who would use their abilities for evil are unable to prey on the public. Thank you. That will be all."

****************

**Level Five, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Maury stared at the food on the table. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? Months? Years, maybe?

It was impossible to tell time in this place. Nothing ever changed. The same simple meal sat on the same simple table in the same simple kitchen.

He could still remember his son, Matthew, walking out of this very room with the girl, Molly; locking him inside until he could manage to find the strength to break free himself. Along with that thought came the familiar rage, and also a small bit of pride. It took a strong mind to lock someone in a nightmare. And a stronger one to keep them there. And it had been his son who had managed it.

He had tried to escape. There were splintered chairs where he had tried to batter down the door. It may as well have been solid iron for all the damage he had inflicted. The bloody marks on the simple doorknob gave mute testimony to his inability to force even the slightest turn.

He sat in the wooden chair that always seemed to reappear, regardless the number of times he shattered it against the impenetrable door, and rested his head in his torn hands.

"A little pathetic, to be honest." The unexpected voice from behind him startled Maury, nearly causing him to fall from the chair.

"Christ, Arthur. You damn near gave me a heart attack."

Walking toward the door, Petrelli took in the bleak room with a raised eyebrow. "So this is the hovel you have never been able to quite escape in all the years I've known you." When he turned to face Parkman, a sneer played across his lips. "And all it took was a new telepath, only just beginning to discover the depths of his ability, to lock you in here forever."

Maury glanced down. There was no point denying it. He had run from this place when his son was a young boy, and had been glad to leave it behind. But a part of him had always been afraid of being forced to return.

Arthur shook his head. "I have to admit, Maury, that it took me a while to find you. I wonder if it was worth the trouble."

A look of panicked hope crossed Maury's weak features. "Get me out of here, Mr. Petrelli. I swear I'll do anything you want."

Arthur flashed an unhealthy grin, but it was gone so fast Maury persuaded himself he had imagined it. "That's fine, Maury. But if I let you out, no more adventures on your own."

"I had to go, Mr. Petrelli. That girl, Molly, was looking for me. If I hadn't run, she'd have found everything."

"And in running, you risked everything. All it would have required is a little more concentration, and your son would have discovered all you had been doing for me, and my plans would have become impossible." Narrowing his eyes, he glared at Maury. "Make no mistake, my wife is more than capable of killing everyone she even suspects may be involved in order to prevent me from doing what needs to be done." Leaning back against the wall, he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps I should kill Matt, just to be safe. He's powerful, which makes him dangerous."

Maury leapt to his feet, a motion that would have looked more intimidating if he'd been taller and thinner. "Leave Matthew alone. I'll do anything you want if you get me out of here, but leave my son alone."

Arthur stared at him in silence for several minutes. "Very well. He will live. Provided you do _everything_ I ask of you." Turning to the door, he grabbed the handle. "Now, let's see about getting you out of here." With a dark chuckle, he twisted the knob and opened the door."

As Maury stepped through, a dark wave passed over him, and he awoke. Looking around, he realized he was inside one of Primatech's Level Five medical wards. Sitting up, he glanced at the wall. He could see the vents mixing the inhibitors with his air, preventing him from being able to use his telepathy. He would have to wait to rejoin Arthur and Pinehearst.

****************

**Level Five, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Elle stormed through the complex, muttering under her breath in tones that kept even the most daring agent from interfering with her. _He's ignored and dismissed me for the last time. I'll make him listen this time._

Without knocking, she burst through her father's office door, and drew a deep breath. "Dad, I've been thinking about it." Closing the door behind her, she walked to his desk, staring at the back of his chair, where he sat staring out the window. "We don't need to look for Sylar. He's on the hunt for powers? On Level five he'd have an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Blinking in disbelief, she stared at his unmoving chair. The deliberate shunning hurt her worse than any of his words ever had. Struggling against the tears of anger and shame, she asked, "Are you even listening to me?"

Walking around the desk, she struggled to find the words to convince him she wasn't the failure he too obviously felt she was. "You know, you are so sure that I'm going to disappoint you. But when I prove you wrong-"

She stopped in stunned horror. Her father sat in his chair, facing the window. The blood running down his face came from where the top of his skull had been telekinetically cut away.

Elle stood for several seconds, trying to process what she was seeing. _Sylar! He's in the building._

Without stopping to think, she grabbed a gun and nearly ran to Level Five, trying to retain something resembling calm for the agents who didn't know what had happened. As she entered Level Five, the familiar catcalls and wolf whistles accompanied her hurried strut. The one known as Flint pressed against the glass and called out, "Hey, you coming to see me baby, or what?"

Without stopping, she swore over her shoulder. "Screw you!"

By the time the words were out of her mouth, she was already entering the code into Noah Bennet's door. Before the door had fully opened, she called out. "Sylar's in the building!"

Catching the gun she tossed him, he flipped it around until it was in the ready position and raised an eyebrow. "Daddy doesn't want me to leave my cell."

"My dad's dead. Sylar killed him." Turning, a ball of lightning held ready in her hand, she sprinted out into the hall.

Noah stood just in time to watch Elle fly past his cell, lightning flowing harmlessly into the ceiling. Her screams echoed in the suddenly silent hall as Noah ran out, gun held at the ready.

As he exited his cell, he saw Sylar stalking down the wide hallway, smirking all the while. Without pausing for breath, Noah aimed and fired with the uncanny accuracy that had made him a legend. Before even stopping to see what impact they were having, he squeezed off five rounds.

When he did stop, he saw Sylar still standing where he had been, one hand held out. The bullets were suspended in midair directly in front of him. "Hello, Noah." With an arrogant wink, he flicked his wrist and let the bullets fly harmlessly away from both of them. "Did you miss me?"

"You son of a bitch!" As he tried to squeeze off another round or two, hoping to get past Sylar's telekinetic block, he felt the gun writhe like a wild thing in his grip.

Smirking, Sylar ripped the gun away from him, throwing it across the hall. Without changing expression, Sylar shook his head again and used his telekinesis to slam Noah into the wall, letting him fall nearly unconscious.

Hearing a dragging sound and a cough, Sylar glanced back over at Elle. He stood and watched for several seconds as she crawled toward him, coughing in pain. He could see the disorganized ball of lightning she was trying to form in her hand.

Picking the discarded gun up from the floor, he walked over to where she was trying to crawl to him. With a negligent gesture, he forced her over onto her back. From his position over her, he held up the gun. "Look what your daddy used to be able to do." Calling up the new ability, he slowly turned the gun into solid gold. Hefting it for a second, he shrugged and tossed it aside.

Trying to collect herself for an attack, Elle spat out, "You killed him!"

Grinning quickly, he nodded. "I've killed a lot of people, Elle." Dropping the grin, he stared coldly into her eyes. "You're as much to blame for that as anyone. Maybe even more so."

Holding out his finger, he began to use his telekinesis to slice through her skull cap, listening to the familiar, _and delicious_, moans of pain. Suddenly her small sparks began to gain size and strength even as her moans became screams. Before he had time to react, a massive and uncontrolled blast of raw electricity, as powerful as her screams were loud, lifted him away from her and slammed him into the wall.

Elle clung to consciousness as she watched him fall to the ground, released from her reflexive blast. Distantly, she heard the alarms as her the Level Five security grid shut down. As she fell victim to the darkness that was clawing at her vision, she saw Noah drag Sylar into one of the cells.

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

Eric Doyle breathed in the free air for the first time in years. He had barely begun testing the limits of his ability when the Company, under the guise of Noah Bennet, had found and imprisoned him.

The fight between the man he had heard named Sylar and the Bishop girl had managed to knock out the gas and electronic locks of his cell. After using his ability to win his way to freedom, leaving several corpses behind, he found himself standing free.

_I have to run. I have to hide. I can't let them find me._ His plan, what there was of it, was to return to his puppet shop and lay low. He had been happy at the shop, and he had made people happy. Then his ability manifested and he used it to make his own life more enjoyable.

Anything he wanted, and had long been denied, had been made available to him because of his ability. Sex, money, cars; nobody had been able to resist his commands. Admittedly the sex had lost its appeal as the conquests became almost too easy. The only challenge had been which of the beautiful women he saw would become his victim.

Now things would be different. They'd have to be. The Company would be looking for him and the others. Anything they did that made them stand out would make them targets for reimprisonment.

Now he stood outside the airport. He had taken the time to change clothes, finding a relatively empty shop where he had been able to manipulate the one or two inside into giving him the clothing and money he needed to make good his escape.

Stepping into the airport, he glanced around for the emptiest airline counter to get his ticket. Less than ten minutes later, with a fresh ticket in his sweaty palm, he was sitting in the waiting are for his flight to start loading.

****************

**Level Five, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

After waking up in the infirmary, she had taken a few minutes to collect herself and walked slowly back to Level Five to see what had happened to Sylar. She had a vague memory of Noah Bennet carrying him into one of the cells.

She wasn't prepared for the overwhelming hatred that swam through her upon seeing him bandaged and strapped to one of the tables. Had she been able to manage so much as a spark, she would have entered the cell and burned him to ash. Unfortunately, with her ability apparently exhausted, all she could do was watch the body through the special glass of his cell.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Angela Petrelli walking toward her. "Quite a little mess you've made here."

In stunned disbelief, Elle turned to stare at her. "Mrs. Petrelli? What're you doing here?"

Angela smiled coldly and stopped in front of her. "With your father's death, the chain of command falls to me."

"This is how things work around here, Elle. You should know that. I'm in charge now, and I'm starting by making a few changes."

Elle couldn't read that cold expression, but something in the way Angela was speaking made her uncomfortable. Glancing through the glass, she fidgeted briefly. "I…we caught Sylar."

Angela nodded her head and spoke in her most condescending, sarcastic, tone, "Good for you." With exaggerated patience, she continued before Elle could interrupt. "Your electrical outburst also shut down the grid. Letting out a dozen inmates who are just as bad, or worse." Taking a deep breath, she fixed Elle in her coldest stare yet. "And Noah Bennet is gone too."

Elle bit her lip, trying to contain her growing irritation. _She's worse than Dad. Can't I get credit for doing anything right?_ "I know. And I'm gonna get right on that."

Continuing with the deliberately condescending patience, Angela smiled. "No, actually you won't."

The reply caught her completely flatfooted. "I'm sorry?"

"We only kept you around this long at your father's insistence. He's been protecting you for a long time. And circumstances have obviously changed." Dismissing her, Angela turned to face Sylar through the glass. There was the trace of a smile on her lips. "And we won't be needing your services anymore."

Blinking back tears at the brutal dismissal, Elle stared in disbelief. It took her several seconds to be able to reply. "I have worked for this Company my entire life! What am I supposed to do now?"

Angela stared through the glass at Sylar. Nearly completely ignoring Elle's demand, she smiled. "I suppose you'll have to get yourself another life."

The silence deepened as Elle continued to glare in stunned betrayal at Angela's back. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she stared through the glass at the man who was apparently going to be her replacement and left the building, the Company, and the only life she had ever known.

****************

**First Federal Bank of New York, Poughkeepsie, New York**

Noah parked the car outside the bank and glanced at his passenger. He still couldn't believe, after everything, that Angela would partner the two of them. "You do realize she's playing us. Don't you? This is all one big game to her."

His partner glanced out the window at the bank, and then straightened his tie. "Maybe." Eyeing Noah quickly, newly recruited Company agent Gabriel Gray opened the door. "But aren't you interested in seeing how it all plays out?"

After flashing the falsified credentials to the authorities, Gray followed Noah past the barricades. "So, how do we do this?"

"_We_ do nothing." Ignoring Gray's disbelieving stare, Noah glanced at the bank, then back at him. "I take care of the escapees."

"That sounds like a one-sided partnership."

"We're not partners." Stepping in front of Gray, he took the lead. "You just stay close and keep your mouth shut."

Stopping briefly, Gabriel Gray, known more commonly as Sylar among those who knew him at all, stuck his hands in the back pockets of his slacks and grinned quietly to himself. Suddenly he stepped ahead of Noah and assumed a thick Southern accent. "Who the hell's in charge around here?"

Noah stared at him in complete astonishment, barely able to ask, "What are you doing?"

Before Gray could throw more than a wink back at him, a uniformed officer approached. "I'm Lieutenant Corey. Who're you?"

Turning around to face the officer, Gray flipped open his badge. "Special Agent Andrew Hanson, FBI." Before the officer could object to his tone or his interference, he pushed on. "You mind telling me why these barricades aren't thirty feet further back? You want the media up our ass?"

"Sir! I'm in the middle…"

"Or are you just trying to get one of these lookie-loo civilians killed?"

Noah stared, unblinking, at his partner. The officer stared in irritated exasperation. Gray kept his cold eyes focused on him, daring him to object. Finally, Lieutenant Corey tossed a crisp command over his shoulder. "You heard the man! Back these horses up! All hands!"

As the Lieutenant retreated, Gabriel called out, "And we're gonna need some coffee." When he looked back, Gabriel nodded. "Decaf." Feeling Noah's stare burning into his back, he turned around and dropped the accent. "You drink decaf, right Noah?"

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Elle angrily packed the last of her bags and glanced at the clock. Through tears of rage mixed with sadness, she saw she had an hour to make the flight. She had already arranged for most of her belongings to be sent into storage in Florida. All she was bringing with her were a couple bags filled with clothes and a handful of magazines.

Money was no issue. She had been on the Company payroll since she was a teenager. Due to the overprotective nature of her father, she hadn't been allowed to be a typical teenage girl, and had most of that money in several accounts under her name. There was more than enough money to pay for a luxurious Miami motel until she could find a suitable place to live.

_Anything's better than being anywhere near the Petrelli bitch while she destroys everything Daddy worked for._

She had seen the way Angela looked at Sylar and she knew she was being replaced by someone who made her look like a saint. Picking up her bags, she headed out for the cab that was waiting. If she was lucky, she'd be gone before Angela decided she couldn't be trusted on her own. _And then I'll find some way to destroy her and kill Sylar._


	6. Chapter 5: March, 2007

_**March**_

**First Federal Bank of New York, Poughkeepsie, New York**

Gabriel Gray, _not Sylar_ he had to remind himself again, leaned against the side of the car staring at the bank in impatience until he caught Noah returning out of the corner of his eye. Standing up, he straightened his tie and suit coat and walked over to meet his unwilling partner. "Are we going in?"

Noah ignored him for a minute, pulling a bullet proof vest over his head and fastening it into place. "I am. You're waiting out here."

Gray shook his head in disgust and gestured at the vest with one hand. "Well, what's that gonna protect you from?"

Finished with putting the vest into place, he pulled out his Company issued forty-five. "Nothing. It's for show." After checking the weapon, he reluctantly handed it over.

Rolling his eyes, Gabriel took the offered weapon. "And you're going in without your gun, too?"

"Knox wants me unarmed. He says they'll release the hostages."

Gray narrowed his eyes. _You'll take the word of one monster, but not that of another?_ Leaving that thought unspoken, he tried to drive home the obvious. "You do realize they're not gonna let you alive?"

Noah stared at him for a moment, raising one eyebrow in disbelief. "Well, that's very touching. A monster cares about my well being."

Gray tried not to show the sting of the pointed attack. "Well, you're so concerned with proving you're better than me."

"I _am_ better than you."

_I only stalked and killed. But I did it under my own authority and everybody knew why I was doing it. You kidnapped and killed because you were told to. You __**made**__ me what I am. And __**I'm**__ the monster? __**I'm**__ the worse of us?_ "I can help. Let me do something!"

"All right. Debrief the hostages." Getting tired of arguing when he should be working on getting the hostages released, he swore under his breath. "Use that silver tongue of yours to defuse their stories." Turning slightly, he pointed at the bank. "But under no circumstances are you to go anywhere near that buffet in there!" Jerking his hand up, he detached the Velcro Police badge on the vest. "Got me?"

_Yes, you self-righteous, sanctimonious prick, I got you._ Gabriel stared coldly at Noah, grinding his teeth. "Yeah." Inside his mind, where only a telepath could have heard it, he was making other plans.

****************

**Level Seven, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Debbie sat on the small cot in her cell and stared at the door in irritation. She had almost escaped earlier. She still didn't know what had happened, but the gas keeping her ability at its weakest level had cut off and the door had unlatched. At the same time, alarms had gone off through the building. Something major had happened and interrupted the security grid.

She had refused to move when it happened, needing to let her ability regain its full strength, and suspicious that it was a trick. By the time she was in any shape to make a break for it, the security system reengaged.

Quietly, she smiled to herself. Even though the security system had reengaged, and her ability was once again being damped by the suppression gasses inside the cell, she knew it wouldn't be long. _Soon, I'll be free. Soon, I'll find my sister, Piper. Soon. ._

****************

**First Federal Bank of New York, Poughkeepsie, New York**

Noah stood, hands over his head, just outside the glass doors of the bank. Knox was keeping an eye on him, making certain he didn't try anything, as the hostages filed out.

When the last hostage left, he grabbed Noah by the vest and threw him to the floor several feet away. Grinning with a nearly unstable fury, he walked over to him, grabbed him from the floor and threw him into the chair Flint had moved to the middle of the floor. "You took away my life!"

Seemingly unafraid, something Knox verified with a quick inhalation, Noah stared at him. "You're a criminal, Knox."

"Criminals get trials and lawyers. Me? I got stuck in super-Guantanamo."

Noah continued to stare, no emotion showing in his face or voice. "You got a bum rap. Is that it?"

"I think you get off being judge, jury and executioner. Now it's my turn."

Before Noah could say anything, before he fully realized what was happening, Jesse grabbed him by the back of the neck and threw him to the floor.

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Eric Doyle stared at the locked and shuttered building. For the first time in several years, he felt something resembling peace pour through him. He had been happy here. Maybe he could be happy again.

Using an aspect of his ability he rarely used, he raised his hand and mimed turning a key in the door. With an audible click, the lock twisted and the door swung open. Stepping into the welcoming darkness, he smiled. _Home at last. _

****************

**First Federal Bank of New York, Poughkeepsie, New York**

Knox stopped the brief beating Jesse and Flint had been giving Bennet, and crouched in front of the bleeding man, framed by his two temporary partners. Grabbing him by the throat, he scowled briefly as he still felt no fear from the man. "Looks like the man with the plan just ran out of options."

Swallowing around the tight grip, Noah caught movement near the door of the bank and tried to defuse the situation. "Turn yourself in. Nobody has to get hurt."

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Shrugging slightly, Noah glanced over Knox's shoulder. "Just a guy with a partner standing right behind you."

Jesse and Knox spun around in surprised horror to see Gabriel Gray standing behind them. Just as Knox raised a fist to use the last of his fear-obtained strength to drive his fist through Noah's skull, Gray used his telekinesis to hold him in place.

Beside him, Jesse opened his mouth to scream. Angela had shown the files to him before sending him out with Noah, so he was prepared. Flashing a tight grin, he gestured with his other hand, using his telekinesis to close Jesse's throat, barely leaving it open enough to breath. "Shh."

From the other side, Flint glared at him, and thrust out his hands. As the first flickers of blue flame crawled across his palms, Noah scrambled across the floor for the gun. Rolling to his side, he aimed and fired. Flint collapsed to the ground, screaming in agony, as blood spurted from his suddenly shattered knee.

Holding his gun in one hand, Noah screamed, "I told you to stay put!"

Keeping his focus on preventing Knox and Jesse from attacking, Gabriel felt the stirring inside; the hunger that always accompanied the understanding. "You told me that to make sure I wouldn't, didn't you?"

Noah stared at him for several minutes. Finally, he had to grin. Gabriel smiled back tightly, slightly nodding in understanding. He couldn't spare more. The monster was responding to the hunger, to the addiction.

****************

**London, England**

Raven watched the man approach. She couldn't help but grin. It had been months since she had seen him. "Get finished with what your friend wanted?"

Claude glanced up at her. "Not exactly. Bloody idiot was being followed by Primatech and didn't know it. Still, New York didn't start glowing, so I assume he learned enough. I spent the past couple months dodging Agents. Where's your friend?"

"You mean Hannah?" The false names had grown as familiar as their real ones by this point.

"No. I meant the other git you're living with! Of course I meant Hannah, ya bloody idiot!"

"She's at work right now. Why?"

Claude took a deep breath. "Because, while I was dodging, I talked with some people. Your new buddies are starting to make some moves, which means you're both in danger if you don't keep your asses undercover. So tomorrow I'm going to walk you through some more of what it means to not be seen by those you don't want noticing."

****************

**First Federal Bank of New York, Poughkeepsie, New York**

Gabriel watched use the tape to bind Flint and lead him away. "What do we do now?"

Noah shoved Flint through the door and said, "Now I get him patched up and tell the locals that these are Federal prisoners, and we get them back to Level Five."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes as he felt the cold calculation of Sylar taking over again. "Yeah. Okay." As Noah left the bank, he released his hold on Knox, letting him escape. With a bloodthirsty grin, he used his telekinesis to close and lock the door behind Noah.

Hearing the door slamming shut, Noah ran back to the bank and stared helplessly through the clear glass. "What're you doing? He's getting away!"

Sylar, completely reemerged from where he had been locked away as Gabriel attempted to be the agent his mother, Angela Petrelli, wanted, ignored the muted call from outside and stalked his prey.

Jesse, barely able to whimper, saw the murderous glint in Sylar's eyes and tried to push himself away. Glancing out the glass door, he whispered, "Help!"

Glaring at his target, Sylar glanced back out at Noah. In a calm, cold voice, filled with bloodlust, he spoke. "You were right. I am just a killer."

Noah stared in horror at the bloodbath he wasn't going to be able to prevent. Pounding on the glass, he shouted, "You don't have to do this! You can fight it!"

Glancing briefly at his partner, Sylar grinned slightly. "No, I don't think I can." _I don't think I want to_. Raising his finger, he called up his ability and sliced through Jesse's skull, exposing his brain. He didn't even notice when the blood from the lacerated scalp splattered across the glass, forcing Noah to watch through a bloody sheen.

****************

**Miami, Florida**

Elle stood on the sand, staring at the people enjoying themselves in the sun and surf. Behind her dark shades, her eyes were filled with bitter tears. The only life she had known for as long as she could remember was over; casually dismissed by the sneer on Angela Petrelli's face.

She had done everything she could to be the type of agent her father could be proud of. And, instead of ever letting her know she was doing a good job, he had done nothing but point out where she fell short. Instead of getting depressed or bitter, she had let it fuel her desire to be better.

And when Sylar came, she had been ready for him. She would have talked it over with someone in charge, but her father had been brutally murdered and Petrelli had been nowhere around. So she'd been forced to improvise.

And she had stopped him. She had exploded with a force even she had been unaware she was capable of, and nearly killed him. _Of course, I __**did**__ also short out the entire security grid for Levels Four through Six, but that couldn't be helped_.

And instead of thanking her, or even telling her she'd screwed up and putting her behind a desk somewhere, Angela had fired her almost before the last of the stitches had been sewn into the cut on her forehead. As if that blow hadn't been bad enough, Elle had seen the woman mothering the monster responsible for her father's death before being escorted out of the Hartsdale facility.

And now she was at loose ends in the world. She didn't know what she was going to do, but returning to Primatech was out of the question. She wanted to get even with Angela and kill Sylar, but had no clue how to go about it.

With the money she'd earned from her time with the Company, she had gotten away from New York as fast as possible. The temptation to do something stupid would have been overwhelming if she was that close to everything she hated. So she had landed in Miami, with no definite plans and plenty of time.

As she pulled off the straw hat to wipe the sweat away, she felt a stiff breeze across her exposed flesh. Spinning around, she saw a man roughly her own age, and a woman in bleached dreadlocks that was a bit younger.

The man pulled his hand away from the blond and ran it through his windswept hair as he ran an appreciative eye over Elle's bikini-clad form. Stepping forward and extending his hand, he smiled and spoke with a slight accent. "Ms. Bishop, I believe?"

Cautiously shaking his hand, she raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Who're you?"

Smiling reassuringly, he nodded at the blond. "I'm Doug Wallace, and my speedy associate is Daphne Milbrook." Taking out his wallet, he slid out a small business card and handed it to her. "Through sources that are somewhat less than honest, our employer learned your employment with the organization sometimes known as Primatech had been terminated. We were wondering if you might consider joining us."

Daphne blew out an exaggerated sigh. "For Christ's sake, Doug. Just lay it out for her, don't talk her to death."

Elle had narrowed her eyes at the card. "What's Pinehearst?"

Daphne leaned forward. "Basically, it's a group that wants to make sure people are capable of defending themselves against guys like Sylar. We're also recruiting the best we can find so that guys like Sylar don't stay loose long."

Elle frowned slightly, drumming the card on one bare arm in thought. "Primatech won't like it. Do you have a plan in place?"

Doug smiled shortly. It was going better than he could have hoped. "That's why we need you. We've recruited others from Primatech, but nobody with the intimate, long term, knowledge you bring to the table. I do know upper management believes Primatech to be ineffectual and to have lost its vision, and has plans to replace it. They want you in order to make the needed plans."

Elle grinned viciously. "What can you two do? Anything?"

Doug laughed. "Actually, Daphne's the only one of us born with an ability."

Before he finished speaking, Daphne took off. Her denim shorts and red tank top left a blue and red streak that seemed almost to flow along behind her. By the time Elle had reached out to touch the blur, Daphne had sprinted out onto the water, turned in a long loop, and was standing slightly behind Doug, where she had started. "We've never clocked my top speed, but I can outrun a fighter jet."

Nodding quickly, Doug reached out his hand. "Mine's a little different. I was a test subject for a serum Pinehearst's developing." Shrugging slightly, he laughed. "It was either that or prison. Anyway, I'm one of the only survivors of the variant they used on me, and I thought I was going to die before it was over. But it did grant me a very useful gift." Making certain Elle was following his every movement, he called his shadow off the ground and gathered it around his hand, slowly masking his arm and part of his torso. "They call it umbrakinesis. I prefer to call it Shadow Walking."

Dropping the shadow back into place, he smiled again. "Of course, we know what you can do. You're a bit of a legend, Elle. The lightning lady who backed Sylar off. Not once but twice. Big news for anyone who keeps their ears open."

Elle shrugged. "And the bitch fired me because of it."

Doug glanced at Daphne. Revenge was as good a motive as any. "So why not get some of your own back?" Carefully approaching her, he cautiously laid one hand on her shoulder. "Join us, get even with Petrelli and Primatech, and make sure a monster like Sylar is never allowed completely free reign again."

After several minutes of silence, Elle glanced into his eyes. "Let me get my shit together."

****************

**Level Five; Primatech Research; Hartsdale, New York**

Gabriel Gray, having once more mastered the Hunger that brought Sylar to the surface, helped Noah Bennet dump Flint back into his Level Five cell. Angela stood near the wall and watched in silence.

Gabriel approached her slowly and stared at the standard Level Five pajamas folded in her outstretched arms. Taking them in his hands, he offered a sad grin. "I guess you were wrong about me."

With a cold grin on her face, she nodded toward the cell. "We'll see." Once he was inside she closed the cell door, but didn't lock it. She walked past Noah and the Haitian as she left the floor.

****************

**Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Doug and Daphne were walking with Elle through the exterior hallways of the sprawling complex. After several minutes, Elle cocked her eyebrow. "Do either of you have clue fucking one where we're going?"

Closing his eyes, Doug was silent for a minute. "Maury says the next entrance is the one we want."

When Elle just stared at him, he shrugged. "Maury Parkman. Like his son, he's a telepath. And he's been running most of the show. For the record, you're being given an honor I haven't even been given yet, although I'm supposed to go with you."

"Honor?"

Daphne laughed. "You're going to meet the boss. Neither of us even knows who it is, so we'll all be sort of stuck together in that room."

Elle snorted back a laugh of disgust. "You two don't even know who you're taking orders from?"

Doug raised an eyebrow. "Would you have, if Robert hadn't been your father?"

"Point." Smoothing her dark blue blouse with one hand, and her black skirt with the other, she glanced at the open door less than six feet away. "That's it?" When Doug nodded, she smirked. "Good. Let's get this show on the road."

Doug let Elle in ahead of him, and then walked in beside Daphne. They were all assaulted with the antiseptic scent of a hospital room at the same time. The room was massive, easily the size of a hotel suite. At the other end of the room, opposite and to one side of the doors was a similarly massive bed.

Elle had stopped dead just inside the door, nearly making Doug and Daphne run over her. In shock, they stopped right beside her.

On the massive bed which was the centerpiece of the room, surrounded by monitors and IV solutions, was a middle-aged man apparently being kept alive by the oxygen supplied to the trach in his throat. Although his situation made him almost appear weak, his face betrayed no hints of that weakness, and his eyes were keen and penetrating.

Blinking slowly, Elle stared at him. "But…you're dead. Angela told us all you'd had a heart attack."

Although he didn't speak, his narrowed eyes told Doug and Daphne that he was not incapable of communication. He fixed Elle in his cold gaze. Several seconds later, she inhaled sharply. "Your own wife? I knew she was a cold bitch, but…."

Before she could finish, he narrowed his eyes again. Nodding, she shrugged. "She fired me because the discharge that stopped Sylar also set free most of the people on Levels Four through Six." Biting back a bitter curse, she frowned. "And then she decided to recruit the psycho killer into the Company. Even if she hadn't let me go, I couldn't have hung around for that."

As he narrowed his eyes again, both Daphne and Doug realized, at nearly the same time, he was telepathically communicating with Elle. She stared at him for a minute. "You want me to sign up for another company after just getting my ass booted from the one I'd devoted my life to? Why should I?"

Another moment of silent communication and she grinned. "Revenge against the bitch who fired me and the murderer who took away everything I cared about? Fine. What do you need from me?"

At this, Maury Parkman stood from the chair where he had been hiding in the shadows behind the massive bed. "First, Arthur wants to know how much of what went on behind the scenes you know. We know Adam was freed last year and Hiro locked him away somewhere. What we're not sure about is where that was."

"I'm not sure what help I can be. Hiro doesn't trust the Company, and I can't blame him. He certainly didn't tell anyone what he did with Adam."

Glancing briefly at Arthur, Maury tried a reassuring smile. "You don't understand. We know he wouldn't have told you where he put Adam. But we think you may know something that could help us locate him. One of the tricks of a healthy telepath is the ability to scan through minds for details, sometimes details the person being scanned is unaware of. Would you let me look through your mind for anything that might clue us into his location?"

Looking, for the first time, slightly worried, Elle glanced from Maury to Arthur, and then over her shoulder at Daphne and Doug. Finally, she drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. "I suppose."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Maury grinned almost childishly. "Great. I'll get to that in a minute." Looking quickly at the other two, he gestured. "Mr. Petrelli has a mission for you. There are a few people we need to," pausing briefly, he glanced at Elle before continuing, "attempt to recruit. There's a folder containing all the information you will need in your office, Douglas."

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

Knox stared around the small room in undisguised shock. Only seconds before, he had been at the station, waiting for the bus that would take him home. Before he had known what was happening, he felt a tug on his arm followed by a sense of blurring movement.

Seconds later, in which he had been pulled along at breathless speed, he found himself dumped in a wooden chair in the middle of a dark room. An already fading yellow and red blur led from him to a puckish girl leaning casually against the wall. With a quick smile she nodded at him and crossed her arms.

Swearing, he shouted, "What the fuck's going on? Do you have any idea just who the hell you're messing with?"

"Benjamin Washington called Knox." The voice came from the shadows along the near wall. When Knox turned his head toward the voice, he watched an average sized man step out of the shadows, seeming almost to brush them aside. "Trust me when I say we know precisely who you are, and what you're capable of." The nearly nonexistent accent in his voice added a slight Irish flavoring, and a hint of a threat, to his words.

"Then you should know better than to fuck with me."

The man merely grinned. "You're only a threat if you are in the presence of fear, Mr. Washington. And neither of us fears much of anything; especially not you."

Knox closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, searching for the slightest trace of the fear that made him the strongest man in the world. His eye snapped open in confusion when he found nothing. Glancing back at the blond, he ground out, "Then you obviously don't know who you are fucking with! If you had the slightest clue, you'd be terrified right now."

The man laughed quietly. "Why should we be? Without fear around, you're nothing more than what you seem to be. On the other hand, Daphne over there has the ability to pound you in the ground before you have time to blink. As for myself?" With another quick grin, he waved his hand and the shadows reached out from the wall and appeared to swallow him. An instant later, he stepped back out of the shadows beside Daphne. "You have to be able to find me to hit me."

Knox leaned back in the chair and gathered his thoughts for a minute. "Who the hell are you people, and what do you want with me?"

Daphne chuckled quietly. "My partner's name is Doug, and he already gave you mine. We want you to work with us."

"Fuck that!"

Doug cleared his throat. "Do you really want to end up back in you Level Five cell?" When Knox didn't answer, he continued. "Because you'll be there inside a week if you try this on your own. But if you take Pinehearst up on our offer, we can keep you out of their reach."

Knox thought quickly. "What's the catch?"

Daphne shrugged. "The catch is the same one we all had when we signed up. Don't talk about what you do to anyone other than another Pinehearst agent that does the same work. Don't ask questions. Do what you're paid to do. Follow those rules and you're golden. Don't follow them, and the consequences could make Level Five look like a summer camp."

He narrowed his eyes and glanced at both of them. "And if I don't take the offer?"

Doug shook his head. "We vanish and you don't see us again. Of course, I can't promise there won't be more of us sent to make your life unpleasant. And, as I said, you'll be lucky to last a week before you're back in Level Five."

Knox thought it over for another minute. "I guess I'll join your little group. What's next?"

Daphne tossed him a pin similar to the Pinehearst ones she and Doug were wearing. "Now I take you on your first assignment while Doug takes care of another little job for us."


	7. Chapter 6: March, 2007

_**March**_

**Hartsdale, New York**

Connie sat in the crowded bar in silence. She had gotten the telepathic summons to meet a Pinehearst contact here alone.

She'd been planning a day out anyway, so she staged a fight with her daughter and stormed out of the Primatech facility. Since she was famous for her temper, nobody followed her.

Now she was nursing her second drink and alternating between memories of Julien, and wondering what Pinehearst wanted.

"Can I buy you a drink?" When she looked toward the voice, she realized the Pinehearst agent, Doug, was standing beside her table.

"Sure. I never turn down free drinks."

After he ordered the drinks and sat down, they pretended to flirt for several minutes. When he was certain the coast was clear, Doug leaned closer and dropped the bantering tone. "How long can you be gone without raising suspicions?"

She thought for a minute. "Probably another couple hours. Why?"

"Because we're going to head to a motel room so we can talk privately. We've got a small job for you."

Connie laughed. "Sorry. Despite my reputation, I only fuck my husband."

Doug grinned slightly. "I couldn't care less. We want people to think you're banging me for a while. That way we have freedom to do what needs done. Do you want to take them down, r don't you?"

Connie considered it for another minute. Then she drained her drink and stood up. "Let's go, lover."

****************

**Aoyama Cemetery, Tokyo, Japan**

"What the fuck are we doing here?" Knox stared at the abandoned cemetery in disgust.

Daphne tossed the shovel at him. "_We_'re doing nothing. You're digging, I'm watching."

He barely caught the flying spade in time to avoid a broken nose. "Why the hell am I doing all the work here?"

Daphne quirked an eyebrow in amusement. "All the work? Dude, I just hauled your ass almost ten thousand miles, over the fucking Atlantic Ocean. I don't want to hear it." Leading him through the cemetery at a slow walk, she found the headstone she was looking for. "If Bishop's to be believed, this is where Nakamura buried the guy. Start digging."

After about an hour's time, Knox encountered the coffin. After tapping it a few times, he dug around it and revealed it. "Are we sure about this?"

"Boss says dig, we dig. He wants the guy inside brought back to him for some reason."

Knox shrugged and checked the locks. "Good. It's not locked, which means it won't be hard to get into." He was about to use the hammer and chisel to crack open the lid when he herd faint pounding coming from inside the coffin. Jumping out of the whole, he swore. "What the FUCK is that?"

Daphne laughed. "I guess I forgot that part. The guy in there isn't dead. Actually, he can't die. Not for long anyway. He's a regenerator."

Cursing under his breath, Knox slid back into the whole and pried open the coffin. Before he could even put the tools down, the blond man inside took his throat in a death grip. "HIRO!"

Knox slammed his fist into the man's face and rubbed his freed neck. "Jesus. What the hell?"

Daphne shrugged. "He's been in there a while. I think most of a month. He's probably a bit pissed off about it." Looking around, she checked her watch. "Grab him and the tools and take my hand. We need to haul ass."

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

Doug leaned against the small desk in the motel room. "How long does your ability last?"

Connie blinked. "Uh…about twenty-four hours. Maybe a bit longer. Why?"

Doug narrowed his eyes. "That's on a living person, right? How about on a corpse?"

Connie stared at him. "No fucking clue. I've never tried. What the fuck's going on?"

"Maury says several Primatech agents are going after a group of Julien's clones that went rogue. One of those agents could be important to us for several reasons. We want to replace her with a corpse you've made to look like her."

"And what happens to the one you're grabbing?"

"They get put out of the way until we can use or recruit them."

Connie considered it. "Part of the reason my ability only works for a day is because the only changes I make are cosmetic, and the DNA forces itself to reshape into appropriate patterns after about a day. I don't think that'd be a problem with a dead body, since everything's stopped at that point. When do you want me to do this?"

Doug grinned. "The mission takes place tomorrow. We're hoping you'll do the job tonight, preferably before Primatech has a chance to miss you."

"All right. Where's the body? And who are you grabbing?"

"There's a small building on the outskirts of the city that is owned, through a few dozen holding companies, by Pinehearst. The body's in there. And we want you to make her look like Sabine Hazel."

Connie stood in thoughtful silence. "Why her? She's a normal, not particularly crucial to the Company." _Of course, I have to put up with the fact that she's partnered with one of Julien's clones, and I know they've been banging each other pretty regularly._

Doug flashed a short smile. "Let's just say we have reason to suspect she's more important than anyone, including her, realizes. Can you do it?"

Shrugging, Connie walked to the door. "Let's go."

****************

**Hartsdale, New York**

"You wanted to see me, Mrs. Petrelli?" Matt glanced around the Spartan office with obvious distaste. He'd been involved with the Company before, since shortly after he realized he had an ability, and it always ended badly.

"I did." Angela pursed her lips briefly and looked at him over her clasped hands. "We, and by that I mean not only the Company but also you, have a problem. And it's a problem I need your help with."

Matt stared at her in silence. "After all the shit you and this Company have put me through, why would I help you?"

Angela flashed a cold smile. "That was the way my predecessors ran this Company, and it's part of the reason we're in the shape we are. I would apologize for that, but I know you wouldn't accept it, and I don't blame you. But now we have a mutual problem. Your father."

He had been about to interrupt when her last sentence caught him off guard. "My father? Maury's locked up and in a coma. What possible threat can he pose?"

"I'm afraid the situation has changed. Due to Ms. Bishop's pyrotechnics earlier this month, your father is no longer in our care. It appears he came out of his coma in time to take advantage of the downed security system. Now he's in the wind."

Matt swore under his breath. "How am I supposed to help?"

Angela closed her eyes and hid a sigh. "I have dreams. Although they frequently require interpretation, they are always true. And what I've seen is your father working with someone I can't see, and tearing the world apart. Whatever he's doing, we need you available to help counter his ability."

Matt rubbed his forehead. "I'm not sure what help you think I can be. I barely managed to beat him last time."

She flashed another icy grin. "As Robert once said, you control anything the mind controls. You are every bit as strong as your father. Stronger, actually, as you also have a moral compass he lacks. When the time comes and he attacks, you may well be our only salvation."

He stared at her for several minutes, attempting to dig into her mind and discover if she was telling him the truth. Finally, he gave up. It had taken everything he had to get a single name out of her when she had been attacked at the station. He was getting even less out of her now. "Fine, I guess. If you really think I can help, I'll hang around."

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Adam hadn't even had time for a bath or a change of clothes after he had been slapped awake. After spending a month or so in the coffin, within which Hiro had imprisoned him, he dearly wanted both. Instead, he was struggling to keep pace with the taller man who had dug him out. Attempting to make conversation, he looked over at his companion. "You've heard of me, right? Adam Monroe?" When his companion barely acknowledged hearing him speak, Adam tried again. "I'm guessing you have some sort of special ability. What is it?"

Still walking, Knox barely glanced at him. "I get strong off other people's fear.'

"Ah." Trying to see where they were going, he laughed quickly. "I'm not afraid." _Kind of hard to feel fear when you know you can't die._

Knox managed a half grin, then suddenly grabbed Adam's arm and threw him to the floor in the large room they had come to. From the floor, Adam chuckled and looked back at Knox. "Seriously. You're wasting your time."

Knox said nothing as he stared at Adam for several seconds, and then nodded to a spot Adam couldn't see. Pushing himself slightly up from the floor, Adam swiveled his head and stared in horrified amazement at the bed and its occupant.

Immediately, he scrambled to his feet and slowly approached the occupant. "Arthur?" Blinking, he stared at the man in shock. "I heard you were dead."

Arthur turned his head slightly, and narrowed his gaze at Adam. Nobody other than his target heard his unspoken command. But his target grew terrified. "Wait. No." Turning almost as if to run, he saw Knox and a blonde woman he was unfamiliar with waiting for him. Screaming, he watched Knox draw a deep breath and seem to grow stronger in some way. "NO!"

He looked back at Arthur and then rushed toward the door. Knox grabbed him and threw him back. His fear was quickly growing uncontrollable, and he spat out, "Let go of me!"

Knox merely pushed him toward the bed. "You scared now?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed Adam's arm and forced him to Arthur's bedside.

Trying to fight his way free of the unbreakable grip on his arm, Adam screamed in terror. "Arthur! No. Please!" When Knox forced him to extend his hand, he attempted to bargain with the implacable face in the bed. "I could be of use to you!"

Keeping his grip on Adam, forcing him to leave his hand extended, Knox nodded briefly at an unspoken command from Arthur. Grabbing his hand, he laid it almost gently over Adam's.

With a brief flash of light, Arthur's ability activated. Before the stunned eyes of everyone in the room, Arthur's breathing grew stronger and his already penetrating eyes grew brighter.

When his hand was released, Adam stared in horror around the room. The horrified gaze was returned as his four centuries of life rapidly overtook him. His golden hair faded to dull silver, then began to fall out around him. His flawless skin tightened and wrinkled as he moved from the appearance of a man in his prime to the appearance of a man ancient beyond count of years.

By the time he opened his mouth to scream, it was too late. All that escaped was a dusty gasp as his body crumpled in on itself, falling into a pile of dust covered by the suit he had been wearing.

Before the suit had finished collapsing, Arthur sat up in his bed and looked around. He ripped out the trach and the IV, watching and feeling the holes automatically heal. Twisting his head around slightly, he spoke for the first time in nearly two years. "Feels good to breathe again."

With a slight smile, he looked into the astonished faces of Knox, Daphne and Livitz.

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Angela sat behind her desk and sighed in exhausted frustration. Her dreams, normally so useful in making decisions had been singularly frustrating of late. She could tell that a major storm was brewing, but had been unable to see who was behind it.

_So many decisions still to be made by too many people._ She longed for the crystal clear dreams that came with a night of well-earned sleep, but she had been unable to manage more than a few hours of stolen sleep since Robert had died. _Be honest, Angela,_ she chided herself,_ you haven't managed a night's well-earned sleep since you killed Arthur._

Taking a quick sip from the glass on her desk, she decided to begin working through the stack of papers on her desk. As she stared at the papers, everything from field reports to pay vouchers, her head dropped against her chest and she fell asleep.

A distant scream of terror and agony woke her up. Nearly leaping to her feet, she walked rapidly into the suddenly deserted hall, the crisp snap of her heels echoing from the walls. Tracy Strauss, the politically canny ice queen who had recently begun sleeping with her son lay on the ground, her throat sliced open. Angela stared at the woman in horror. "My God."

Turning her head slightly, she saw Nathan slumped to the floor against the opposite wall, blood still dripping from the fatal slash to his head. With an involuntary gasp, she brought one hand to her mouth and reached out for Nathan with the other.

A noise made her continue down the hall. Peter stood staring at her, his hands dripping blood. She couldn't accept what she was seeing. She could barely whisper, "Peter? Tell me you didn't do this. Please?" Instead of answering, he collapsed slowly to the floor, and she saw a pipe had been thrust into the back of his skull, killing him and stopping him from regenerating.

Her mouth open in horror, she gasped again and began to slowly back away from the scene. Behind her, the door closed and she spun around. A figure stood between her and the locked doors, a figure that terrified her. "No. No." She repeated the word incessantly as her terror overcame her.

Arthur approached from the doors. "Hello, Angela."

"No, it can't be."

When the distance between them could be measured in inches, he shook his head. "You can see the future. I can't have that. That's too dangerous."

Keeping an eye on her supposedly dead husband, she shook her head emphatically. "You won't succeed. I'll stop you."

"Don't be ridiculous." Reaching out almost tenderly, he laid one blood soaked hand on her shoulder. "You won't even be able to move."

Suddenly she snapped awake, only to find his mental command held her immobile. His voice repeated in her mind, _You won't even be able to move_. Just before falling into the coma that was always the result of this sort of telepathic attack, her eyes darted in horror around the suddenly claustrophobic room.

****************

**The Congo, Africa**

She hid in the jungle outside the battered hut, keeping one eye on the kneeling figure inside. "Team three, in position."

After the other two teams checked in, indicating their readiness, Julien called over the radio from the Primatech communications hub in Hartsdale, New York. "All teams, go!"

She sprinted the distance between her hiding spot and the open door, intent on dropping the target where he knelt, when he spun around and fired three rounds in her direction. She barely dodged to the side in time, and felt splinters from the bullet impacts on the tree fly across her face.

As soon as the last bullet impacted, she leapt out from hiding, firing her stun weapon at her target. He dove through an open window, barely avoiding the barbed electrodes. As the other teams called back a successful capture, she pushed herself up from the ground and began pursuit. "Agent Hazel, still in pursuit."

Sprinting around the hut, she followed him down a barely visible foot path through the dense jungle, weaving around and through the brush to keep him in sight. When he darted around a shallow curve, she sped up and rounded it just in time to hear his despairing scream. She barely managed to stop herself from joining him as the path abruptly ended in a sheer cliff.

She reached for the radio to report back to base when she felt a burning pain cross her hand and throw the radio over the cliff. Before she had time to react, the shadows seemed to pull away from the nearby rocks, revealing two black-garbed figures where she had seen nobody only seconds before.

The first figure, a shorter blond woman, stood crouched, her right hand forming a claw. The other, a taller man, was laughing. "Careful, Elle. We don't want to hurt her."

Sabine stared in disbelief for several seconds before remembering she was armed. Leveling her pistol at the strangers, she asked, "Who the fuck are you people?"

The man shook his head, still laughing. "Why does everybody ask that? Is there some sort of handbook or manual I never got? Who I am doesn't particularly matter, but you can call me Doug. I believe you already know my partner."

She glanced dismissively at the blond. "Of course, everybody knows the incompetent daughter of the dumbass that got himself killed." Glancing over the edge, she swore. "Did one of you do that? I was supposed to bring his ass back alive."

Elle laughed. "Of course not, bitch. The idiot clone did that himself."

Sabine acted as if Elle hadn't said a thing. "You know they'll come looking for me, if I don't report back?"

Doug nodded. "We're sort of counting on that."

"I don't understand?"

Elle rolled her eyes. "It's so simple I would've thought even a dumbass slut like you could figure it out." With a vicious grin, she continued, "When they show up, all they'll see is you and that idiot clone dead at the foot of the cliff. Tragic accident and all that shit."

Sabine laughed harshly. "What the hell are we chatting for? If you want to fucking kill me, just do it already!"

Doug sighed and shot her with the soporific dart fun he had quietly eased from his coat. As Sabine gaped at the trio of darts in her stomach and slowly collapsed to the ground, he smiled. "She didn't say you'd be dead, just that Primatech would see you dead. There actually is a difference, and Pinehearst has other plans for you." Just what those plans were, he hadn't been told. All he knew was they were to take her to one of the holding cells in Fort Lee.

Glancing at Elle, he lifted the shadow from the dead woman they had made to look like the target. "Let's switch the clothes, and dump this carcass over the edge. Then we can take Sabine back with us."

****************

**New York City, New York**

Marita de Contego-Kemp looked up from her desk as the two men entered her new office. After everything that had happened at Kirby Plaza, not even a year ago, she had felt the need for a change. Around that time, another firm had offered her a substantial increase in pay, as well as better hours which would give her more time at home with her new husband. She had practically jumped at the opportunity. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

The shorter of the two, a nervous looking, heavyset man, who disturbingly reminded her of a rat, attempted to smile. "Actually, you can."

Sensing something drastically wrong, she picked up her phone to call the building's security.

"Put the phone down, Mrs. Kemp." The quiet mental command behind the softly spoken words had her replace the phone on the cradle before she realized what was happening. The man met her horrified gaze with a slight smile. "Very good. Now you're going to come with us, and not do anything that would indicate you are coming against your will or that something's wrong. As far as they're concerned, we're here to escort you to a meeting. Now, grab your jacket and purse and follow us."

****************

**Level Five, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Gabriel watched Flint pacing through the glass separating their cells, fighting the temptation to try and use his power to break through and take the pyrokinesis that was calling to him when his cell door burst open.

A blond woman slipped inside, followed by a vanishing trail that gave silent evidence to the speed at which she had been moving. Jumping away from the woman, he glared at her in suspicious hunger. "Who are you? What are you doing?"

Shrugging, her arms extended in exasperation from her sides, she sighed. "My job is to spring you out." Swallowing past a small amount of fear, she looked at him closely. "You're Sylar, right?" When he narrowed his eyes to take a closer look at her, she started to turn away. "You have places to be. The guards'll be here in a few seconds, so let's get going."

In a firm voice, making her spin around in shock, he said, "No."

In disbelief, she walked back to him, her head moving slightly as she repeated the word in a questioning tone. "No?"

"Who do you work for?"

Resuming the attitude she had spent years acquiring, she walked toward him some more. "Someone who wants to work with you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a killer? For some reason you're important to him? I don't ask questions like that. Now come on." She turned away and walked toward the open cell door.

With a decisive movement, he thrust out his arm and pinned her to the wall using his telekinesis. "I'm not a killer anymore, and you're not going anywhere."

Helpless, she darted her eyes around the cell in sudden terror. "Look, I'm on your side!" At the confusion in his eyes, she seized the moment. "Can't you see they're trying to change you in here? Making you into something that you're not?"

In a fit of anger, he tightened his telekinetic grip, making her fight to breathe. "You don't know anything about me!"

"But the man I work for does!" Seeing the confusion come back to his face, she softened her voice. "He likes you the way you are." When he released his grip on her, she ran into the other cell, but not before leaving a card in his hand.

Turning it over in his hand, he saw the Pinehearst name and logo, and an address in New Jersey. After looking at it briefly, he watched her through the glass. She stood staring at him. "So you know where to find us." As the guards began to respond to the security breach, she glanced back over her shoulder at Flint. "We're going."

Watching as she approached him, Flint muttered, "It's about time."

With a burst of speed, she left with Flint, leaving Gabriel alone with his thoughts.

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Matt was still kicking himself for allowing Angela to talk him into working for Primatech. He'd known it was a bad idea, but had allowed the smooth talk to convince him it could work. _This time, I'm not leaving without some answers._

When his known was answered only by silence, he tested the doorknob. The door swung open soundlessly. He felt a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach; a feeling he remembered only too well from those times he had been a first responder to the scene of a murder in his days as a police officer.

Angela was seated at her desk, eyes open but blank. His first thought was that she had died, but visual check of her breathing told him all he needed to know. _Just like what my father did to Molly._

A quick glance around the room did nothing to reassure him. Although nothing seemed out of place, that meant little with the involvement of a telepath. Swearing under his breath, he pulled over a chair and sat down. Closing his eyes, he rested one hand against her head to help his concentration.

When he dove into her mind, he found himself in one of the halls of the complex. His footsteps echoed through the nearly-abandoned area. Following a sense he couldn't have explained to anyone, he turned, seemingly at random, and wove his way through the maze.

When he found her, Angela was kneeling on the floor, cradling Peter's head in her arms and calling the name Arthur in broken sobs. Not knowing what else to do, he stood in the doorway and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Petrelli?"

Her head whipped around with lightning speed. "Matt?" Climbing to her feet, she smoother her skirt and walked over to him. "How'd you get here?"

"I found you in your office, and this is where I ended up when I decided to try and pull you out of what Maury did to you."

Angela blinked at the name. "Maury? No. This was the work of someone far stronger, more skilled, and much more dangerous than either you or your father. And, until just now, he is someone I thought to be dead." She kept the truth of who had put her in the nightmare locked deep enough that Matt could only find it with extreme mental effort.

Shrugging her shoulders quickly, she nodded to him. "It's time to go."

Taken aback at the abrupt change in conversation, he stared at her for several seconds. Finally he sighed helplessly and led her back to the door through which he had entered.

When they awoke, she looked over at him as he removed his hand from her face. "I need some time alone. I need to think, and there are plans I need to make."

Recognizing the dismissal, Matt went to the door. As he opened it, Angela cleared her throat. "Thank you, Matthew, for coming after me."


	8. Chapter 7: March, 2007

_**March**_

**New York City, New York**

Angel bolted upright in the bed, her body trembling violently beneath the thin nightgown. Tears carved their way down her cheeks as she remembered the pain and the fear in her dream.

Ishmael, as always attuned to his wife's mental state, awoke instantly. Recognizing the signs of her ability, he sat up and rested one broad hand on her back reassuringly. Drawing a deep breath, he cleared the last of the sleep from his mind. "Tell me."

She turned her head slowly, letting him see the fresh pain and fear in her wide violet eyes as she took in the comfort of his compassionate, handsome face. "Are you certain?"

He smiled gently. "Do you need to ask?"

Returning the smile, she leaned into him for a brief kiss. After a minute, she wiped the tears away and turned in the bed so she was facing her husband. Gently laying her soft hands on either side of his face, she pressed their foreheads together. "Close you eyes and open your mind, love. I want to try showing you what I saw."

He was uncertain what to expect. She had never tried something like this before, had never even indicated it was possible. But he attempted to do as she asked. And with a suddenness that made him gasp, it hit him.

It was a flurry of complex images, sensations and impressions. The obscure names, usually titles or descriptive terms, were mentally supplied by the vision. His ability of translation struggled to keep pace with the information.

When it was over, he was only vaguely aware of her releasing him mentally and physically. All he was capable of was staring blankly ahead, attempting to process and come to terms with the emotions released by the images.

When he regained control of himself, he took his wife's hand gently in his own. "Is it certain?"

Angel shrugged helplessly. "There are yet decisions to be made that can alter these events. I cannot read what has not been decided. However, most of what I have read will come to pass, for those decisions have already been made."

Ishmael absently ran his hand through his graying hair. "Should we call Dustin back for this?"

She shook her head definitely. "No. He may yet become involved, but for us to involve him at this point is to bring his death to him. I have seen it."

He leaned forward and rested his hand on her swollen stomach. "What about Rowena?"

She furrowed her brow in concentration. "Difficult to see. Choices, ours and hers, will decide her fate." Smiling quickly, she interrupted as he began another question. "Have you interpreted the names of the players?"

"Some. Once again, Lucius and Marita are the ones your vision calls the Light Warrior and the Shield Maiden. The Mother is Angela Petrelli, and her sons are labeled again the Brother of Power and the Brother of Flight. For some reason, Sylar is the one called alternately the Hidden Promise and the Hidden Threat. He apparently will face a choice that will determine his fate, and the fate of many others. The only interpretation I find confusing is that of the Great Evil. I have a name, but it belongs to a dead man."

"Do you trust your power? Do you trust mine?"

"Yes. To both."

She smiled, and laid one gentle hand on his arm. "Then trust them to not lead you astray."

Nodding, he briefly stroked her hand, and then scratched at his bare shoulder. "Does Lucius know what happened?"

Closing her eyes, she reached out to find that one mind out of millions. With a sharply indrawn breath, she found him and read through his emotions and surface thoughts. Reopening her eyes, she shook her head. "He knows something is wrong, and he is worried. But he has, as yet, no knowledge of what has occurred."

Ishmael reached beside the bed and grabbed the pair of shorts from the floor. Slipping them on, he stood and looked down at his wide. "He needs to be told."

Nodding, she stood and threw her robe around her shoulders. "I'll shower and make coffee."

****************

**Los Angeles, California**

The phone woke him up. Glancing quickly at the clock on his dresser, he swore softly and bitterly. Untangling his arm and leg from his lightly snoring lover, he stumbled over to the phone and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Detective Taylor?" The woman's voice on the other end of the line was brisk and businesslike.

"That's me. Who the hell is this?"

"Agent Audrey Hanson with the FBI. I've been trying to contact your partner, Detective Ransome, but can't find her. Do you know where I can reach her?"

"Yeah. Give me a couple minutes, and I'll get her for you." Setting down the receiver, he walked back to the bed and started to lightly shake her awake. "Tru?"

Rubbing her eyes with one hand, she woke up and slapped his hand away. "All right. I'm awake." Glancing at the clock, she muttered, "Fuck!"

"I already said that, babe." Laughing, he grabbed the oversized shirt she normally wore at night and tossed it to her. "There's a Fed on the phone for you."

After standing and pulling on the shirt, tugging it down to just barely mid-thigh, she spun to face him. "What the fuck's a Fed want with me?"

Shrugging, he followed her to the table. Picking up the phone, she said, "This is Ransome."

"Detective Ransome?"

"I just told you who the fuck I was. What the hell are you calling me this damn early for?"

"We need your help."

"What's the Almighty Federal fucking Bureau of Investigation want with me?"

"We need your help on a case."

"No shit? You just fucking told me that, you stupid twat! If you're going to sit there and repeat yourself all goddamn night, I'll just hang up the fucking phone and go back to sleep!"

There was a heavy sigh on the line. "I can't go into specifics over the phone, Detective. But your name came across my desk as someone who could help with the investigation."

Tru closed her eyes briefly and scratched at her thigh. "Why the hell didn't you call me at the precinct, or at least later in the fucking day?"

"Because I need your help, damnit!" Agent Hanson took a steadying breath. "Your name showed up because of your work on the Sullivan case. What I've got makes that look damned simple, and it was a tough one from what I saw. I need help, and you're the best qualified I can find! Are you in or out?"

Tru thought it over for several minutes. "Three conditions. The first is that you talk to my captain about this. He needs to know what's up, and I don't need to be AWOL on him. The second is that you tell me everything. I find out you've kept anything from me, and I'm gone. The third, and completely non-negotiable, is that I bring my partner with me."

"It's a deal." The readiness with which Hanson agreed indicated she had expected those conditions. "When can you be at the LA offices?"

She glanced at the clock. "Give me until ten. That'll give us a couple more hours' sleep, which is kind of important right now."

"All right. Passes will be at the front desk. I'll be in my office."

When she hung up the phone, Ray began stroking her back. "What's the deal?"

Leaning into his hand, she sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "No clue. She said it was tougher than the Sullivan case, though."

Bending down, he kissed the back of her neck and reached around to stroke her stomach "Did you really have to invite me along? That case was a bitch."

Smiling she reached back and drug her nails lightly up his thigh, shuddering with pleasure as she felt him react. "Mhm. Your head tends to stay clearer than mine." Standing up, she took off the shirt and pressed her nude body against his, taking him in her hand and stroking as he stiffened. "Besides, I need my nightly O."

****************

**Baltimore, Maryland**

She was eating popcorn in her apartment, with the lights off and one of Wes Craven's horror movies running in the background. She wasn't paying much attention to the movie, since her mind was busy replaying the past few hours of her day.

She had been at dinner with a man she had met online. Although she'd had reservations about him before the date, it had been going perfectly. He was funny, smart, interesting. Everything she wanted in a man. _Of course, it didn't hurt that he was absolutely gorgeous. Like GQ gorgeous._

Everything had gone great with Blake, until her cell rang. Apologizing, she looked at the caller id. _No name. No number._ Answering it out of curiosity, she had been surprised to hear an electronically disguised voice on the other end. "Listen carefully. This is not a joke. This is a set-up. The man across from you is a killer. You're going to tell him you have a family emergency. You're going to leave."

Before she'd had a chance to even think of interrupting, the voice had continued. "Look under the table. I've taped a gun under your table. Take it."

Blinking putting the phone away, Donna fumbled with her purse, using the clumsy movement to slip the gun she felt in with the phone. She had almost been tempted to brush the call off as a prank. _Almost, but not quite. After all, there's always the chance this guy really is a killer. They say Ted Bundy was a really friendly guy too._ Making her apologies, and using the family emergency story, she ran from the restaurant and took a cab home.

Eric Thompson, Jr. stood on a rooftop roughly a half block away, watching Donna through night vision binoculars. Under any other situation, what he was doing would be considered stalking. _Luckily, this isn't any other situation. She's a target, and the Company wants me to bring her in_.

He was trying to figure out the best, easiest, and least noisy method of collecting her when he saw her looking at him. For a second, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Her eyes, normally a blue-grey, were white and slightly glowing, and her face was shocked and angry. "Uh oh. I think she saw me."

He watched in fascination as, instead of running or slamming her blinds closed, she grabbed what looked like a teddy bear shaped purse, and began rummaging through it.

"Saw you? We're half a block away. At night. There's no way."

He turned his head from his binoculars for a second to give his partner, Connie Logan, a quelling stare. He hadn't been happy to be given her as an emergency partner, but Elle had been terminated and they needed him to be stuck with somebody.

When he looked back through the binoculars, he was staring down the barrel of a handgun that would only have needed wheels to make respectable cannon. As Donna's finger pressed the trigger, he muttered, "Oh sh-" He didn't finish the thought, and barely moved his head to the side in time to avoid being shot in the eye, as the bullet slammed into and through the left side of the binoculars.

"Ohmigod! Ohmigod! What the HELL did I just do?" _I just shot a man. THAT'S what the hell I just did!_ She ran through the reasons, what she'd say in court, how long she'd last when they realized she was claiming a man she shot from a half block away was a stalker, while she sprinted down the stairwell from her apartment. She had a car outside. _Where can I go? The cops? Bad idea, Donna. My parents! They'll know what to do._

As she reached the parking lot, dragging her keys out from her purse, a voice from in front of her called out in a mocking tone, "Hi, Donna. Cute car."

She looked up. There was an attractive woman leaning against her car. "I don't know you. Get away. Please."

With a cocky smile, the woman shrugged. "I'm Connie." Pushing away from the car, she uncrossed her arms. Donna was surprised to see what looked like a gun in one of the woman's hands. "There. Now we know each other."

Without even twitching an eyebrow, the woman whipped the gun up and pulled the trigger. Donna had barely enough time to notice the sparking leads before they slammed into her stomach, pumping roughly thirty thousand volts into her body. She collapsed instantly to the floor.

Connie immediately leaped into motion. In less than a second, she had Donna flipped onto her stomach, with one knee in the small of her back to keep her from trying to roll away. In another instant, the bindings were in place on the wrists and ankles, and the taser was put away. Immediately after that, she had given the girl an injection in the carotid artery that would put her to sleep for hours.

Seconds later, Eric rolled up beside them in the Company car. Connie glanced at him and grinned. "Took you long enough."

Eric swore. "Shut it, Connie. You're not trying to drive with one good eye." Gently, he brushed at the bruising and bleeding caused when the bullet threw glass at his eye and slammed the edge of the binoculars into his face. His eye was swollen nearly shut.

Bending down, he grabbed Donna's legs, and nodded at Connie to get her arms. With a quick movement, they pulled her up and slid her into the back seat of the vehicle. Grabbing her purse and keys, they threw them into the trunk of the car.

Connie looked at him curiously. "You need me to drive? You look like hell."

Eric shook his head. "No. I've seen your driving, and don't want to experience it first-hand."

"All right." Shrugging quickly, she walked around the car, and opened the passenger door.

Thompson had one hand on the driver's side handle, when a small object hit his foot. Whipping his head down, he recognized the distinct shape of a military-issue gas grenade. "Son of a –" Once again, he didn't have time to finish the thought before the grenade released its highly concentrated sleeping gas with a nearly inaudible hiss.

Eric, being closest to the gas, collapsed almost immediately. Connie lasted long enough to see two black-suited figures emerge from the nearby shadows and approach the car. With a small, nearly invisible, malicious grin, she fell victim to the gas.

Holding out a small device, the taller of the figures checked the readings before removing his mask. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers quickly through his hair. Nodding quickly at his companion, he walked to the car. "Check them, Daphne. The gas is supposed to be non-lethal, but stranger things have happened."

Daphne had removed her own gasmask, and gave him a quirky grin. "On it, Doug." By the time he had checked Donna's vitals and bindings, she was standing beside him again. "Everything's fine. Sleeping like babies."

Dragging Donna out of the car, he dumped her over one shoulder. "Good." Grunting under the added weight, he stood up and put one hand on Daphne's shoulder. "Then let's get the hell out of here and back to Pinehearst."

****************

**New York City, New York**

Ishmael let Lucius into the apartment. After Angel brought them coffee, they were seated in the living area. Setting down his cup on the nearby table, he glanced at them both. "What's so blasted important it couldn't wait for Marita to be here?"

Ishmael grimaced. "That's part of the problem. Angel had a vision shortly before I called you."

"All right?"

Angel wrapped her hands around her cup of hot tea, a taste she had always preferred to coffee, and stared at him through unblinking eyes. "You are worried. Why?"

Lucius breathed out a disbelieving laugh. "Probably because I got a call at oh-God-thirty telling me to come over here."

She shook her head sharply. "No. You were worried before getting the call. Why?"

He was silent for several minutes. "She always calls me if she's going to have a late meeting. It's not something I asked her to do, but she's done it since we first started seeing each other. Tonight, she didn't call. And when I called her office, they said a couple lawyers had come to take her to a meeting. I know something's wrong, I just don't know what."

Ishmael exchanged a quick glance with his wife. At her silent agreement, he looked back to where Lucius sat in the recliner. "There's something big, and I mean End of the World big, going down."

Lucius leaned forward. "What's that got to do with why Marita didn't come home?"

Ishmael blinked, tears forming in his eyes. _He doesn't deserve this. The man's been through hell, and we're the ones who have to tell him his small piece of happiness is shattered._ "I'm sorry, Lucius. I'm so sorry. Marita has been taken. And the vision didn't say when you would find her again." _I can't tell him that the vision couldn't even say __**if**__ he'd find her again. I can't do that to him._

Lucius sat there, as unmoving as a statue, for what seemed an eternity. He couldn't think, could barely breathe. Ishmael's words echoed in his head as his mind was forced to accept what his heart had already known. His eyes were moist with tears he could not shed.

After several endless minutes, he lifted his left hand and stared at the entwined rings. The custom-ordered engagement and wedding set that combined to form a double helix; the symbol of the complete mental, physical and spiritual union he shared with the woman who had brought life and light to him.

He struggled to keep his voice calm. "Who has her? Where?"

Angel spoke up. "The vision would not say. All it told me was that the Father, the Great Thief and Destroyer, has taken her and that he wishes to empower her."

Before Lucius could form the question, Ishmael jumped in. "Before you ask, she's tried to get more. After getting off the phone with you, I begged her to reenter the vision and find the detail, any detail, to help us find her. She was given nothing."

"Who the fuck is this guy she calls the Father? If I can find his ass, maybe I can get some damned answers and get my wife from wherever the fuck they took her!" _Hopefully before they can hurt her._

Ishmael shook his head. "We won't find anything with the name."

"Why the fuck not?"

"Because he's supposed to be dead. His family had a funeral for him last year, before anything we were involved in even started."

"What's his **FUCKING NAME**?"

Ishmael heaved a heavy sigh. "Arthur Petrelli."


	9. Chapter 8: March, 2007

_**March**_

**White House, Washington, DC**

Nathan Petrelli, former United States Senator and recently appointed New York Governor Robert Malden to fill the junior senator seat vacated by the death of Gerald Dickinson, sat in the President's office. Although he had requested the meeting, he was still surprised at the speed with which the President had agreed to it.

The President was still on the phone, so he had a few minutes to look around the office. At one time, his plans included at least one term behind that massive desk. Things had changed since then, and he was only beginning to get his feet wet in the political arena again. _But not everything's changed_, he admitted to himself, _I still want to get into this office._

While he was lost in thought, the President finished his call. "So tell me, Senator Petrelli, what can I do for you today?"

Nathan didn't smile. His plans were too important to allow levity. "I assume you saw my press conference, Mr. President?"

The President did smile. A casual, relaxed gesture he practiced every morning. "I did. A clever piece of work, I have to admit. None of the press admits to seeing any wires, and not even my most creative analysts can figure out how you did it."

He'd expected this. "There was no chicanery involved, Mr. President. If you wish, I am prepared to prove that now, in this office."

When the President nodded, Nathan stood and slowly floated into the air. When he was elevated enough, he floated over the desk and landed beside the President. Straightening his tie, he walked back to his chair and reseated himself. "As you can see, Mr. President, it is far from a trick."

Staring in open astonishment, the President nodded. "So I see." Quickly composing himself, he laughed. "If you hadn't done that here, in my office, in front of my eyes, I don't think I would have been able to believe it." Folding his hands carefully on his desk, he leaned forward intently. "How many of you are there?"

Nathan shrugged. "I don't know, and I have no way of finding out. At a guess, probably five to ten percent of the world's population."

The President let out a slow whistle. "So, at a guess, you'd say anywhere from fifteen to thirty-one million just in our country?"

Nathan nodded. "As I said, that's no more than a guess. There could be far more, of course, or considerably fewer."

The President distractedly agreed. "Naturally." Picking up the phone, he glanced apologetically at Nathan. "Yes. I think I'm going to be in here with Senator Petrelli for at least another hour, possibly longer. Rearrange my schedule to make that possible." Putting the phone back down, he shrugged. "Sorry about that. Now, of these people you're talking about, can they all fly?"

"Can all African-Americans play a killer game of basketball, sir?" This time, he did smile. The President's inability to get the ball anywhere even near the basket was the stuff of political roasts and late night jokes. "No, we can't all fly. There are probably nearly as many variations as there are people."

The President nodded. "All right. I repeat my original question. What can I do for you?"

"As I said, there are probably thousands of us around the country. And the majority of them are law-abiding citizens. If they use their ability at all, it's to make their daily routine a little easier. The problem is that several of them are dangerous. Not deliberately, not because they want to be, but simply because of their ability."

"How so?"

"My brother, Peter, is a perfect example. His ability makes it possible for him to do whatever anyone he encounters is capable of. I know, for a fact, that he currently has the abilities to read, even control, minds, to move things with nothing more than the power of his mind, to heal from any wound, to create and control both flame and electricity, to literally see the future, to fly as well as generate a nuclear explosion." He saw the widened eyes of the President with a quiet sense of satisfaction. _He needs to understand the danger these abilities can pose to the ordinary people._ "But he can't control which ability he takes, and he can't always control an ability once he takes it. The results can be catastrophic."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Last year is when he took the nuclear ability. He couldn't control it, and he nearly leveled Kirby Plaza in an explosion that would have destroyed much of central New York City.

"And there are others. According to my sources, the man Peter took that nuclear power from had poor control, and was accidentally responsible for the death of his wife by radiation poisoning. There was another woman, Nicole Sanders, who had enhanced strength. She was also mentally unstable, suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder. Under her normal personality, she was a stressed, but caring mother. Under her secondary personality, she was a merciless killer."

The President stared in horror. "These people actually exist?"

"Absolutely, Mr. President. And those, I'm afraid, are the good guys. There's another group that is even more worrisome. This group uses their ability in order to steal, rape and murder. There's a man who goes by the name of Sylar. He uses his ability to hunt and kill others with abilities. During the kill, he does something to copy their ability and make it his own."

"I'm familiar with the name. I believe the FBI had an investigation that uncovered it. The indications apparently found no basis to believe it was the killer's name."

"The indications were wrong, Mr. President. He's real, and he's responsible for several deaths. He supposedly died at Kirby Plaza, but nobody found his body."

The President remained silent for a minute. "In your press conference, you mentioned something about organizations trying to keep your existence a secret. What can you tell me about them?"

Nathan sighed. "Not enough, Mr. President. Not nearly enough. What I can tell you is that they exist outside of the government of any country. As far as I've been able to determine, they operate completely outside the law. Part of their mission, I'm in complete agreement with. They track all of our kind they can find, leaving the non-dangerous ones free to continue with their lives, but bringing into custody the criminally inclined and dangerous ones they find. I understand and agree with that policy. My problem is they are not authorized to do so. It is simply an undertaking a few private citizens came up with years ago."

"You said you had no problem with part of their mission. What of the other part?"

"That's something I would think any reasonable person would take issue with. They want to remake the world in an image only they can see. They wanted Peter to explode in Kirby Plaza. They wanted the world that would bring, thinking they could bring peace from it."

The President shook his head in disbelief. "They wanted to destroy the world in order to remake it?"

"Basically, Mr. President."

"Do you know any of the players in this group?"

"I know some. There are others that I still don't know. Daniel Linderman and Robert Bishop were both players, as is my mother."

The President blinked slowly. "Angela Petrelli works with this group?"

"Yes, sir. I didn't know until last year, after my election. She was the one that tried to talk me into letting Peter explode that night." _And nearly succeeded._

"All right. What exactly do you want from me?"

_Perfect. _"I think we need to consider the fact that these people, and I'm including myself in that, are all potentially dangerous. We need to know who they are, what they are capable of, and where they are."

"You want me to require people to be tracked for what is basically an accident of birth? We don't even have that kind of security around people purchasing guns."

"I know that, Mr. President. But these are people who are inherently dangerous. It's like being born with a loaded gun in your hand."

"Are you asking for some sort of registration? That's sounded a lot like the kind of thing you read about in the fiction section of your local bookstore, Mr. Petrelli. It's not something I think the Senate or House would even consider. Too many issues, not least of all the civil liberties intrusion."

"I'm aware of all that, Mr. President. I'm also aware that if we don't do something, this organization will continue to do so and we will never know what these people are truly capable of until one of them goes crazy and destroys a small town or a country."

"Do you really think they're that dangerous?"

"Mr. President, _I_ am that dangerous. At least potentially. I've never bothered to clock myself, but I know I break the sound barrier. And I have absolute control at that speed. Could any of your protection detail counter someone moving faster than sound if they decided to abduct you, or kill you?"

The President sat back and stared at Nathan through hooded eyes. "I can't guarantee anything, Senator. But I can call a special session of Congress and have you bring up these points on the floor." Standing up, he shook Nathan's hand and escorted him to the door. "I can only hope the men and women in both houses will take you as seriously as I do. Are you prepared to demonstrate your own ability in front of that many witnesses?"

"If I have to, Mr. President."

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Gabriel lay on the hard cot in his cell, trying to relax enough to sleep. The speedster's interruption earlier, combined with his constant struggle with the hunger, made that more difficult than it normally was. When he heard the cell door open, he turned on his cot enough to see who it was. "Mom?"

Angela walked over to him slowly. He could see that whatever was on her mind was important. "I need your help."

Sitting up, he draped his arms over his knees and stared at her. "I'm not exactly in the best position to help anyone, Mom. In case you missed it, I'm still just a killer."

Rolling her eyes, she stopped less than a foot away. "Even if that were true, Gabriel, it hardly matters now. I'm not asking you to be a saint. I'm telling you to help me."

The snap in her voice made him stand up. "You don't get it, Mom. I'm a killer. Everything I do is tainted by that. You'd be better off asking Peter."

"Peter doesn't have the balls for this, Gabriel. I need you. It's why you found me again after all these years. If you have a destiny, this is it."

Standing a little straighter, he looked at her closely. "What do you want me to do?"

She closed her eyes briefly, letting out a small sigh of relief. "I thought I killed your father long ago, before even you knew you were special. Unfortunately, he's alive. And what he's planning will destroy the world."

"My…father?"

"Yes. My husband, Arthur. He wanted me to kill you, but I was able to resist him that one time. I need you to find him and finish the job."

Narrowing his eyes, he stared at her intently. "I thought you wanted me to control the hunger, to try and be good."

"And so I do. But sometimes even good men must kill, Gabriel. This is one of those times." Taking a deep breath, she placed one cold hand on his cheek in a caressing gesture. "Make Mommy proud."

With a smile, he closed his eyes and felt her hand on his cheek. Without a word, he glanced down at the card the speedster had given him. "This is where I'll find him?"

"Of course. But you already knew that, Son."

"Where are my clothes?"

"The outfit you were wearing when you were captured is waiting for you in the hall."

Without sparing her a glance, he tore the door open using his telekinesis, and grabbed the clothing from the chair. Less then ten minutes later, he had stolen a car and was on his way to Pinehearst.

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Blythe had spent the past months being the perfect agent. She had mastered her new ability as quickly as possible, learning what was and was not possible with it. Admittedly, it had been helpful at times, especially in the field. _But the bastards, and that bitch in charge, could've asked before doing this to me._

Now she lounged insolently in Gael's office in the California headquarters. Idly, she played with a few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "What'd you need, Cruz?"

Gael Cruz sat behind his desk, his face an unusually impassive mask. He had been sure, at one time, that he trusted this girl. She had been one of the best of the new recruits. _Certainly more reliable than Felicia and most of the others have proven._

But now? After what she could only view as a betrayal of trust, the Company had forced an ability on her. _Unfortunately, I have no choice about trusting her. She's the best agent we have for what needs done._ 'We have a problem, Ms. Anders."

Rolling her eyes, she sat up slightly. "Go ahead."

"The Company is experiencing some…personnel issues. We've lost a couple people we were trying to recruit, and the field performance of some of our agents is indicating reliability issues." _Not to mention my own Kill Squad has vanished without a trace._ He knew they had done what he ordered, because he had tasked a Company satellite with checking into the area they had been sent to. But they'd gone AWOL, with complete radio silence, since.

"And your point is? So some of your people aren't trustworthy. Retire them and bring in some new blood."

"I'm afraid it isn't that simple. At the moment, with the new recruits having vanished, the Company is a little shorthanded at the moment. We can't afford to retire anyone unless the problems I suspect are confirmed."

Blythe blinked slowly. "So what do you need?"

"I need you to investigate."

"Why me? Why not one of your pets, like Bianca?"

"Because you're the outsider, Anders. You don't have any axes to grind or friends to protect in the Company. I need the absolute truth."

Blythe stood up slowly, smoothing the black miniskirt and looking at him through dark hooded eyes. "Who am I reporting to?"

"Me, of course." Gael tossed a new Company phone at her. "Use this one, not the phone you were issued when you became an Agent. It's a dedicated number, and I'll immediately know you have something for me."

Barely glancing at the phone, she tucked it into her blouse. "Whatever. You realize this could take a while."

Gael nodded. "If anyone's hiding anything, they'll be doing their best to keep it secret. It could take months to uncover it. Just do your best." Opening a folder, he dismissed her without a word or a glance.

Because of that, he didn't see the smile that crossed her face and briefly turned her dark eyes a light brown. _Maybe I'll find something I can help out with. Anything to tear this Company down._

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Gabriel had entered the building with no problem. The one guard that had seen him was now dead and hidden where he wouldn't be found for hours. He stalked the halls, using the skills he had mastered over a nearly a hundred kills to remain hidden.

He had decided that the Pinehearst lab was the most likely place to find Arthur, so he headed as close to straight there as possible, detouring only to avoid detection. Glancing through the windows, he saw Mohinder standing over a Hispanic woman, preparing to inject something into the screaming woman's arm.

When the needle stopped where it was, Mohinder swore and tried again. When it refused to move, he glanced around wildly. He looked at the doors just as they swung open. Before he could say anything, Gabriel used his telekinesis to hurl the needle into the wall, shattering the vial. "Hello, Mohinder."

Without pausing to think, Mohinder used his recently gained abilities to leap across the distance, intent on tearing off the head of his father's murderer. Before he could cover the distance, even with speed and strength enhanced by his imperfect formula, he was thrown against the wall by Gabriel's telekinesis and fell unconscious.

Taking a moment to undo the woman's bonds, Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "What's your name?"

Rubbing her wrists and ankles, the barely dressed woman looked around the room in horror. "Marita. What's going on here?"

Before Gabriel could answer, the doctor who had been standing to the side attacked him with a piece of medical equipment. Growling in annoyance, Gabriel threw the doctor, whose nametag said his name was Livitz, through the air with his ability and impaled him on what looked like an oversized coat hook. Grunting in satisfaction, he turned back to Marita. "Not a clue. But you might want to run."

As the woman took his advice and ran as fast as her bare feet would allow her, Gabriel turned to scan the room for any sign of where he could find Arthur. So intent was he on the mission his mother had given him, he didn't notice Mohinder leap from the floor and silently land on top of the nearby cabinets.

Not seeing anything that could help him, Gabriel turned to head back out the door. Before he could take two steps, Mohinder jumped him from the cabinets, slamming him into the table.

Dazed, Gabriel felt himself violently rolled onto his back on the stomach, staring into Mohinder's blood-lust filled eyes. Temporarily unable to defend himself, Gabriel felt Mohinder grasp both sides of his head and start to slam it into the floor.

After the third time, just before he was afraid Mohinder was going to succeed in killing him, he heard a voice come from the doors. "That's enough." Ignoring the command, Mohinder drew back his right arm and prepared to slam his fist into Gabriel's skull.

Crossing the floor, Arthur grabbed Mohinder's arm and pulled him off Gabriel. "That's enough!"

Mohinder struggled futiley against Arthur's iron grasp, not quite willing to use his enhanced strength to break free. "Do you know who this man is? Do you have any idea how many innocent people he's killed?"

Arthur nodded slightly. "I do." Piercing Gabriel with a glance, he smiled slightly. "But he's also my son."

Mohinder stopped struggling and stared at him in shock. Arthur's smile broadened slightly when he said, "And I've been waiting for him a long time."

****************

**Pinehearst Holding Facility, United States**

Donna slowly blinked awake. _What the fuck happened?_ Sitting up from the hard cot, she rubbed her eyes with her palm heels and looked down. The jeans and black shirt she remembered wearing were gone. In their place was what seemed to be a gym outfit of some kind, possibly spandex or something similar. _That bitch that shot me must've done it. What time is it?_

Glancing around, she realized she was in a small room, practically smaller than her apartment's bedroom. One wall had a large pane of glass, almost like an observation window, covering most of the length and from the ceiling to about waist-height from the floor. The wall against which her cot was placed was nothing but blank concrete. _Probably reinforced somehow_. The remaining walls also had panes of glass, though considerably smaller. It was through those panes of glass she was able to glimpse her fellow prisoners. The word came unbidden and unwelcomed to her mind, _but it's the only thing that makes sense. For some reason we're all in some sort of jail._

In one of her neighboring cells was a tall, dark haired woman. In the other cell was a shorter blond. Although both women were slim and attractive, the similarities ended there. Where the blond looked confused, the dark-haired woman was noticeably angry.

Standing up, Donna stretched and walked over to the observation window, trying to see if she could get somebody's attention. The dark-haired woman laughed bitterly. "Looks like Sleeping Beauty decided to wake up. Don't bother asking for any help from anyone you see out there. First of all, you won't see anyone until it's time for you to eat, secondly anybody you see is part of why you're here."

Donna turned to face her, leaning against the large window. "What is this place? And why am I here?"

The woman's mouth twisted into a harsh smile. "This place is home, as far as you, I, and Barbara over there are concerned. Why you're here? Either the people behind this want to use you, or they just want you out of the way."

Donna's eyes glanced over at the blond, who had been identified as Barbara, and back at the still unnamed woman. "I'm Donna."

"Sabine. And I know you're wondering why I'm here. I'm here for the second reason. The people in charge wanted me out of the way." Leaning against the wall, she shrugged. "I'm guessing you have an ability of some kind?"

Blinking slowly, Donna shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Never thought it was anything special." Only after she said it did she realize something unusual. The enhanced vision that had been with her nearly as long as she could remember was gone. No matter how hard she focused, she couldn't enhance her vision in any way. _It's like going blind._ On the verge of panicking, she spun to face the woman that had called herself Sabine. "What the hell's going on here?"

Sabine shrugged. "At a guess? There's a gas of some kind, barely noticeable, being filtered into your cell. It blocks your ability to access your gift."

Barbara called out from her cell. "How the hell could you possibly know that?"

Sabine shrugged. "Because the Company I work for, or worked for, uses the same basic concept in their cells."

Donna looked at her in disgust. "You work for the people who did this to us?"

Sabine laughed quickly. "No. I worked for a group that did this to people who were a legitimate problem."

Barbara snorted in disgust. "What kind of legitimate problem?"

"Murderers. Thieves. Basically, anybody who used their powers in a way to either break the law or risk the exposure of your kind." Looking around her cell, Sabine shrugged. "This group wants something else."

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Gabriel stared around Arthur's office in disgust. Being left, literally, hanging around while Arthur had his people hunt down the woman he'd freed had not been in the plan.

Flint entered the office, throwing an amused glance at him, and approached Arthur. "Building's sealed up tight. If that bitch's still here, she ain't getting out."

Gabriel tried to muster his typical arrogance. "She's long gone."

Flint ignored him. "If I find her, do you want her crispy or well done?"

Arthur stared at his son for several seconds before glancing at Flint. "Alive, please. We need as many warm bodies as possible if we're going to perfect the serum."

Flint shrugged. "All right." He threw another amused glance at Gabriel and then left the office to continue the search.

After he had gone, Arthur started walking around Gabriel, who was still suspended in the air through his telekinesis. "I sent someone to recruit you. When you refused her offer, I didn't expect to see you here."

Gabriel didn't give him time to fall into the speech he could hear building. "I'm not here to accept an offer, _Dad_. My mother sent me here to finish the job she started months ago."

Pressing his fingers together, Arthur raised an eyebrow slightly and continued his pacing. "Angela's not the woman you think she is, Gabriel." Spreading his arms slightly, as if trying to suggest something through the movement, he continued his pacing. "She's done terrible things."

"So've I. And I'm gonna do them all to you."

Crossing his arms, Arthur hid his amusement and stopped in front of Gabriel. "Has Angela forgiven your sins?"

Smiling coldly, Gabriel stared at him. "My mother accepts me for who I am."

Turning his back on his son, Arthur walked away. Suddenly he threw a comment over his shoulder. "I wonder if you'll be so generous."

Gabriel had been about to say something, but lost it in the confusion brought by that statement. "What are you talking about?"

"She sent you here, didn't she?" Turning to face Gabriel, he shrugged slightly. "Because she didn't want to risk her favorite son." Letting a look of confusion drift across his face, he focused intently on his son. "Did she tell you that you were all gonna live happily ever after? She's using you, son. As a weapon. A blunt instrument to be manipulated and then discarded."

Feeling the words hammer into his insecurity and his desperate need for a family, Gabriel tried to defend her. "But my mother loves me."

Arthur kept his eyes focused on him, feigning regret in his eyes for the next statement. "When you were born, she had one of her dreams. A vision of the future. She saw what you would become."

Gabriel interrupted sharply. "I know this. She told me I'd become a hero."

"Did she? Angela was so terrified of what she saw, so frightened of her own flesh and blood, that she tried to kill you." Without changing the regretful expression, he chose his next words carefully in order to drive the point home. "Imagine that. A mother trying to murder her own child." Releasing his telekinetic grip, he walked over to Gabriel, who was slumped on the floor. "I got to the bathroom just in time. She was holding you at the bottom of the tub." Reaching out one hand, he offered it to Gabriel who was looking around in absolute confusion. "It's time to learn the truth about your mother."

****************

**WNKW19 Broadcast**

The news anchor faced the camera with an unusually somber expression on her face. "We apologize for breaking into regular programming, but felt this was something we here at WNKW19 could not, in good conscience, wait to broadcast. We received an anonymous tape at the studio, and have been informed that all major new stations around the country have received the same film.

"Having reviewed it, we feel a warning is in order. Please make certain no children or impressionable young people are watching the tape we are about to broadcast. We will wait while any such people are removed from the room, as this is not suitable for their viewing. Again, we apologize for this but, given the current state of affairs in our nation as well as the recent revelations by Senator Petrelli, this is something we felt must be shown."

After several seconds had passed, the image of the grim anchor was replaced with a grainy video. Four people could be seen standing around a middle-aged black woman tied in a chair.

The people were dressed in what looked almost like military issued black clothing, and were wearing black masks that completely obscured their faces, as well as goggles or glasses of some kind to hide their eyes. Each of the four men carried a semi-automatic rifle and had a pistol strapped to their waist.

The one immediately to the left of the bound woman stared at the camera. With his voice disguised so that any identification was impossible, he began. "Our nation is under assault. It is being attacked by those who claim to be human, but have powers and abilities beyond what true humans are capable of. They believe they live above our laws, beyond our range, but they are wrong. They believe they can do what they want, when they want, and not face the consequences, but they are wrong.

"We are the Human League, and we are humanity's only line of defense against these abominations. Nathan Petrelli is one of them, as he has admitted. He will soon seek protections and privileges for his kind. We will not tolerate it. Their kind should be purged from the earth."

Letting his rifle hang by the carrying strap over his shoulder, he drew his pistol from where it was strapped to his waist and stood directly behind the woman. Raising it, he pressed it against the back of her skull. "This is Paulette Hawkins. She is one of them. The officials will receive an anonymous tip that leads them to her body precisely twelve hours after this tape is aired."

The silence in the room was shattered when he pulled the trigger. The viewers were stunned as the bullet tore through Paulette's skull, emerging with a bright red splatter from the front.

After several more seconds, during which the television viewers were forced to see the dead body with the dripping blood and brain matter and the nearly destroyed face, the speaker put away the gun and crossed his arms. "Let this be a warning to every non-human. We are watching. We are waiting. And your days are numbered."


	10. Chapter 9: April, 2007

_**April**_

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur had been staring in absolute silence at the paintings for most of half an hour. Daphne stood near the door, bouncing from foot to foot nervously. Finally he released a deep sigh and looked at his agent. "Where'd you find these?"

Daphne stifled a shrug. _Now's not the time to even appear insolent._ "One of those old warehouses you're converting. I was helping clean it out, and found them in an old box. I thought you'd want to see them."

Scratching at his cheek, he stood up and walked closer to where the paintings stood near his desk. "You were right about that. Do you know anything about either these paintings or the artist?"

"Not particularly." Shrugging this time, she walked over to them. "I'm not a fan of the style, but that's about the extent of my ability to critique them."

Arthur flashed a small smile. "Unfortunately, I can critique them a little more. I recognize the style, because I took an ability similar to this some time ago. I'm very much afraid that we'll have to take some steps soon to try to get around what these display."

Walking back to his desk, he sat down and continued to focus on the two pieces of nearby art. "Please find Elle and send her to me. My plans for her are going to need altered slightly."

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Gabriel Gray smiled coldly. He had been given a cell similar to the one he had occupied at Primatech. His father had finally told him the truth about what had happened when he was a child, and what Angela had done, and tried to do, to him.

He'd spent the past hours trying to access his abilities, and had been disgusted to find them missing. _All that time, all that effort, wasted._ He didn't miss all of them, since ones like Mendez' precognitive painting and Zane's melting weren't particularly useful to him, but he'd also lost that waitress' memory and that mechanic's hearing. _Apparently Mohinder's cure to the virus wasn't as good as I'd hoped._

Making a decision, he walked to the door of his cell and checked to make sure he was unobserved. The cold smile became vicious. _Time to let Sylar out to play, and pay a visit to my favorite cheerleader._

Who knew, maybe he could round up some of the people who'd escaped during his little fight with Elle. He'd seen the files, so he knew where Noah had hidden with his family, and he knew where at least one group of the Level Five escapees would be hiding.

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Elle walked into Arthur's office with something resembling apprehension. Not a girl who was normally nervous about much of anything, the feeling had her on edge.

She found Arthur sitting at his desk, staring at a pair of paintings nearby. "You sent for me?"

He glanced at her with an apologetic smile, and waved at the paintings. "Yes, I did. What do you see here?"

Elle raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "You brought me here for an art critique?"

He smiled in genuine amusement this time. "Just humor me."

"Whatever." Rolling her eyes, she turned to face the paintings. And stared. They were both black and white and looked to have been done in pencil or charcoal, and both displayed separate images in what seemed to be the same scene. Both portrayed her lying on some sort of surface, apparently dead. "I don't…what the hell?"

Arthur got up and stood beside her. "I'm afraid we have to take some precautions. You're too valuable for me to allow this to happen."

Elle turned to stare at him. "What exactly are you talking about when you say 'precautions'?"

At that moment, one of the Pinehearst office personnel, an efficient woman who went by the name of Tina, entered the office. "You sent for me, Sir?"

"Ah, Tina. Thank you for coming so quickly. Would you please take Elle down to the area we talked about and get her what she needs in order to be trained and work in Administrative, the way we discussed?"

"Certainly, Sir." Taking the protesting Elle by the arm, she guided her out of the room. "Right this way, Ms. Bishop."

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Claire had spent the afternoon watching television. Sandra, Noah and even Lyle were gone, leaving her alone for the day. Going into her room to grab her computer, she heard the door close and spun around.

"Hello, Claire." When she stared at him in horror, he smirked coldly. "I bet you've been wondering where I've been since you saw me last." Walking slowly toward her, his smirk broadened as she backed away. "Let's just say I took a little detour from my career path. Spent a little time south of the border. But it's all behind me now like a long night after a bad taco."

Still backing away, Claire whispered in horror. "No." Stumbling back further, she raised her voice. "I saw Hiro Nakamura kill you. I was there."

Shaking his head, he waggled a finger at her. "Now, be honest, Claire. You didn't get there until after Hiro was already gone. You mean Noah, or was it Uncle Peter, told you Hiro stabbed me. And yet, here I am. Fully recovered. Well," thinking for a second, he shrugged slightly, "Not fully." Turning his complete focus back to her, he continued forward. "That's actually why I've come."

Bumping against her trophy case, Claire began fumbling for something to use for protection. "What do you want from me?"

Stalking her, he let the grin drop again. "Same thing I did last time I came for you. I want what you have, Claire."

Keeping her hands hiding, Claire found an old cheerleading trophy and grabbed it protectively.

Knowing what was coming, Sylar ignored the weapon. "I want your power."

Swinging her arm around as hard as she could, she slammed the trophy into Sylar's skull, watching as he fell to the ground. Tearing open her door, she ran to the front room and tried to leave the house. The door was torn from her grasp by an unseen force and slammed closed. Wasting several seconds trying to open it, she finally gave up and ran through the house looking for another way out. Even as she ran, the windows and blinds were all closed and the lights above her briefly flared before shattering.

Terrified, she grabbed the phone to call for help, only to find the line was dead. Grabbing a nearby butcher knife from her mother's favorite set, she slowly left the kitchen, trying to look in all directions at once.

With a satisfied grin, Sylar silently fell in behind her, waiting for her panic to reach a fever pitch. _I forgot how good the hunt feels._ He ducked just in time when she whirled around with the knife, slicing through where he had just been standing. Somehow she had sensed his presence.

Panicking, she ran to the closet, slamming the doors closed and using a decorative chain to tie them shut. Sylar slowly approached the closet and tried the doors, shrugging when they didn't open immediately. Lifting the slats in the door, he smiled coldly when he glanced at Claire cowering on the floor.

Walking around the kitchen, he opened drawers and cupboards curiously. "I know you're scared. I would be too, all alone in this house with someone like me." Glancing at the set of knives, he slightly winces when he realizes which one she grabbed. _That's going to hurt._ "A man you barely know."

Walking to the kitchen island, he notices a box of files and begins thumbing through them. _Interesting. Wonder if Noah realizes he left them out where anybody could find them?_ "It isn't exactly a fair fight, I must admit. But I don't wanna fight you, Claire. I just want what you have. You see, I lost everything that made me special." His eyes lit up, burning with a barely suppressed hunger, at the names and abilities in the files.

His voice, raised in a conversational, taunting, tone lowered slightly. "Lost, but now found. There's a whole shopping list of abilities right here. But I'm gonna start with the best. And once I have yours-" He was interrupted by the sound of Claire's heavy breathing right behind him. Spinning around, he was just in time for Claire to slam the knife into his chest with a scream.

Grunting and staggering back, he fingered the edges of the wound, being careful not to dislodge the knife. As she ran away, he levered himself up from the edge of the island and used his telekinesis to slam her face first into the wall. Staggering toward her, he flipped her around so he was looking into her face. Raising his right hand, he guided his telekinesis in his tell-tale cut across her forehead, removing the skull cap and exposing the brain he had wanted since he'd first heard about her.

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Doug Wallace stood in the now cleared office. "You asked to see me, Mr. Petrelli?"

Arthur looked up from the file he had been studying at his desk. "Yes, I did. Since being given your ability and accepting a position with my Company, you have consistently proven yourself to be reliable and, when called for, creative in how to deal with situation. Those are qualities I admire in my associates."

Standing, he took the file he had been looking through. "That's why I'm making you a full agent with Pinehearst, and placing you on some solo missions that will make the best use of your abilities, both the one we gave you as well as the ones you had practiced and perfected before joining us."

Glancing at the folder, Doug narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure I understand."

Arthur flashed a tight smile. "Basically, at the moment, there are some objects I would like your help procuring. Since Daphne's currently occupied, and I've recently recruited someone I think will work well training as a partner with her, you're the only agent I have with the needed qualifications."

Doug laughed. "In other words, you need a thief because whatever these items are, they're not easy to get and not up for sale?"

Arthur nodded. "Everything you need is in that file."

"Understood."

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Claire had been laid out on a table so Sylar could look for the necessary elements of her brain in something resembling comfort. As he poked and prodded, she was left staring at the ceiling and feeling her body jerk and twitch in response to what he was doing. "What are you doing to me?"

Breathing heavily as he felt his life's blood escaping from the chest wound, he continued working. "Looking for answers before I bleed to death."

Still staring at the ceiling, she mentally laughed. "Funny. I'm looking for answers too." Suddenly realizing something that made her even more curious than she was frightened, she asked, "Why don't I feel anything?"

"No nerve endings." Heaving out a short laugh, he shook his head and continued prodding. "An amazing bit of machinery, this." Sliding his finger into her brain briefly, he grunted when he realized it wasn't the right spot. "And how much do we actually use? Ten percent? Maybe twenty? Imagine the answers we'd have with a hundred percent." A fresh wave of pain brought a wince and quiet grown from him. "Why is there evil?" Taking a couple rapid breaths, he regained control of the pain. "How many angels can dance on the head of a pin? How do we make love stay?" Sliding his fingers around her brain, he continued mapping out her brain's wiring in an effort to find the information he needed about her power. "All these answers. They're all right here."

Almost whispering, she asked the question that had been bothering her since she first heard about Sylar and the missing brains. "Are you gonna eat it?"

Holding back an urge to vomit, he asked, "Eat your brain?" Bending close, so his lips were just above the cut in her forehead, he whispered, "Claire, that's disgusting." Leaning back slightly, he inspected the exposed portion of her brain. Looking closely at a particular spot, he pressed against it with a second finger. "Ah, there it is." Taking several second, he carefully slid his finger back into her brain, tracing the area he'd located.

Finally drawing a deep breath, he used a dirty towel nearby to wipe off his hands. Pushing himself to his feet, he looked at her in satisfaction and grabbed the knife still embedded in his chest. Grunting, he slowly pulled it out and threw it aside. Moving the torn fabric of his shirt aside, he watched and felt the wound knit itself together and heal. Grabbing the files, he headed for the door.

As he was preparing to leave, he saw Claire's skull cap where he had dumped it earlier. With a quick smile, he picked it up and replaced it on her motionless body.

As the severed skullcap was rejoined with her body and the healing process began, she sat up. Seeing Sylar leaving, she called out, "Wait." When he turned to look at her, she asked, "What about me? Aren't you gonna kill me?"

"Poor girl. There's so much about yourself that you don't even understand." Doing his best to make her see how completely serious he was at the moment, he dropped the mocking tone. "Your brain is not like the others, Claire. You are not like the others." Shaking his head, he tried to figure out exactly what it was that made her different. "You're different. You're special. And I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to."

When she cocked her head in confusion, he leaned into the light so she could see his face. "You can never die." Looking to the side, as if a thought had just occurred to him, he smirked again. "And now, I guess, neither can I." With that he left, leaving Claire to stare at the door in confusion.

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Daphne entered Arthur's office again, not entirely sure why she had been summoned. "You needed me?"

Arthur glanced up from where he had been speaking with the other occupant of the office. "Hello, Daphne. I'd like to introduce you to the woman who will be your partner for the near future." Waving at the other occupant, he invited her to stand up. "Daphne Millbrook, meet Valerie Drake."

The woman, introduced as Valerie, stood and gave Daphne a measuring glance. An average sized woman, she wore her long black hair in a tight pony tail. She wore a short leather miniskirt and a tight leather corset, both of which revealed as much as they covered. Her legs were covered to mid-thigh in leather boots. Her eyes, a cross between steel gray and iron blue, looked almost dead. Reaching out one hand, she offered it to Daphne. "So you're the one?"

Daphne took the hand and shook it briefly. "The one?"

"The fast thief I heard so much about when I was with the Company."

Daphne raised an eyebrow and glanced at Arthur for an explanation. Arthur laughed quickly. "Another one I collected from Primatech. She worked there until last year. I brought her over around the same time I recruited Maury. She's a whiz with computers, and I had her working through the system to get Pinehearst established while I was…incapacitated. I decided it was time to reward her with a promotion and more hands-on experience. That's why she's partnered with you."

Daphne shrugged. "I'm not exactly the best choice, but whatever. What am I supposed to do?"

Arthur smiled. "Nothing much. Just walk her through working in the field, as opposed to working in the office. When you get a mission other than cleanup, make sure she learns the ropes while you're working together. I don't think this is going to be permanent by any means, but you two will be together for the immediate future."

"All right." Turning to go, Daphne looked back over her shoulder. "Do you go by Valerie? Or can I call you Val?"

"Val works."

"Then let's go, Val. I'll introduce you to the glamorous life of cleanup."

****************

**Chicago, Illinois**

_So this is where they're hiding? Kind of a dump._ Sylar had already decided to explain his being AWOL by rounding up some of the Level Five escapees. _Maybe Dad can use some of them. If not, they either die or end up incarcerated. Either way, I'm playing by the rules._

While he was browsing through the files he had stolen from Noah, he kept an eye on the window of the apartment where one of the escapees allegedly had a girlfriend. Suddenly, a blond head peeked out from behind one of the curtains in the window he was focused on. _Good. At least one of them's here._ Glancing through the files, he smiled. _Looks like Dennis. Time to get this show on the road._

When the head disappeared, Sylar left the car and ran across the road, doing his best to remain unseen. _A skill I never thought would be useful for anything but hunting and killing._ He saw the elevator was broken, so he didn't break stride heading for the stairs. _Why use the elevator when I have a faster way, anyway?_

Sure he was alone, he telekinetically launched himself up the stairs, arriving at the proper floor in seconds. Reaching the apartment, he found a dark haired woman standing in the middle of the kitchen, seeming confused and frightened. "Rachel St. John?"

Spinning around, a look of relief crossed her face. "Oh my God. Please help me? They killed them. They're crazy!"

_This is new. People aren't usually relieved to see me._ Before he could say anything, a green haze seemed to swirl around her, and she collapsed to the ground with a moan as she fell unconscious. "Rachel?"

By the time he had crossed the distance to her, three people charged into the room. A woman, who appeared to be breathing the green haze, shrugged. "Sorry. That was me."

Sylar put a name to her immediately. _That would be Tina Ramierez._

Dennis laughed, and started moving forward. "Rachel has a delicate sensibility. I wouldn't want her to be distressed. She got so upset when we killed the last batch of agents" _That must mean the muscle with the tattoos, are those __**glowing**__?, is Michael Fitzgerald. Enhanced Strength, if I remember correctly._

Suddenly Tina stepped forward, staring at him intently. Putting a hand on Dennis' shoulder, she said, "Wait a minute! I've seen him before." Stepping toward him, she studied his face. "Oh my God! You're…Sylar?" Grinning, she relaxed her guard. "You killed Eden. You took down Elle. If it wasn't for you, we'd still be rotting in Level Five." Moving her hand in introductions, she laughed. "I'm Tina. This is Dennis and this is Michael."

Sylar was caught flat footed. He had expected, _and_, he privately admitted,_ spoiling for_, a fight. But this? _I have…__**fans**__?_

Dennis laughed and stepped forward, extending his hand. "I've heard stories about you. Almost didn't think you were real. Are you here to join us?"

_Almost too easy. As if, even if I were still following my old career path, I was a joiner._ Smirking, he narrowed his icy blue eyes and spoke one simple word. "No." He immediately followed that with a major telekinetic attack that threw all three of them away from him.

Upon landing, Dennis exploded into flame for less than a second, bright enough to force Sylar to look away. When the flames died, Sylar looked back to see Tina and Michael on their knees next to Dennis' completely burned skeleton. _Interesting. Not a very useful ability, but still interesting._ "Now, surrender."

Instead of surrendering, Michael leapt to his feet and charged at Sylar. Holding out one hand, Sylar stopped him from moving. _Fascinating. His tats are glowing even brighter now, and his eyes just turned funky looking. _"Michael Fitzgerald. Enhanced Strength. Durability. But how tough are you when I telekinetically close off your windpipe?" He noted with satisfaction that Michael immediately began gasping for air.

"Stop it! You're killing him!" He caught a faint hint of chlorine, and didn't even wait for Tina to leap to her feet. He grabbed her in an unbreakable telekinetic grip, lifted her off her feet, and gave her the same treatment he was giving Michael. "Tina Ramierez. Exudes chlorine gas instead of carbon dioxide. Very deadly." _And useful._ He felt the hunger gnawing at him again, and was on the verge of breaking Michael's neck in order to concentrate more fully on her when another voice interrupted him.

"Wait!" Glancing briefly over his shoulder, he was stunned when Rachel approached him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Please don't kill them." She fell to her knees; still recovering from the knockout delivered by Tina, but kept her hands knotted in his trench coat. "Please. You saved me, but you don't have to kill them."

For several seconds, Sylar paused, torn between the need to be seen as a hero, and the absolute desire for Tina's ability. Finally, with a violent movement, he thrust his arms out and released his telekinesis. Michael and Tina flew into opposite walls and collapsed to the floor in unconscious piles.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he fished out the card Daphne had given him in his Primatech cell. Glancing at Rachel, he smiled sheepishly. "You got a phone I could use? I need to get these two back where they belong." Glancing at the still smoking corpse, he winced. "And I need to get this mess cleaned up."

****************

**Yamagato Industries, Tokyo, Japan**

Doug had been hiding for hours. The file Arthur gave him told him that one of the pieces of paper could be found in this safe. It also told him who to contact about codes for getting into the office. _Unfortunately, a biometric lock doesn't need codes. Which is why I'm still here._

He'd had to collect some specific gear and wait for Hiro to leave his office for the night. _The idiot was moaning about how useless he feels. Apparently, he hates waiting and wants something big to happen. He should take up theft and learn the value of patience._

Now he was alone. Keeping the shadow surrounding him in place, he dusted a bare handful of surfaces for fingerprints. Smiling coldly when he located a perfect print, he quickly scanned it into the specialized, and tiny, computer he was carrying with him. Less than ten seconds later, a mold was created that he could place over his index finger.

Less than a minute later, he had taken the paper from the safe, along with a large amount of cash that had been secured inside. _Arthur didn't say I couldn't take anything else from the safe. He just wants the paper._

Twenty minutes later, he was just another tourist wandering through Hong Kong.


	11. Chapter 10: May to August, 2007

_**May**_

**London, England**

Rose and Raven were preparing for bed. The day had been long, and training had been hard. Claude had spent the day continuing his pointed lessons about surviving in hiding. They were both looking forward to a night's sleep to finish out the weekend before they had to go back to work.

A pounding on their door made them both pause. "C'mon out here, ladies! You can shag later. We need to talk."

Rolling her eyes, Raven grabbed a loose shirt and pair of shorts and slipped them on, shrugging when Rose threw her a questioning glance. "No clue."

When they were back out in the main living area of the apartment, they saw that Claude was carrying a small bag and his ever-present stick. Raven sat down on the couch, making room for Rose to sit beside her. "What's the big deal?"

Claude frowned at them in silence for a couple minutes. "Basically, I've gotta get gone. Been here too long, and something tells me I'm risking putting myself back in Primatech's damned crosshairs if I stay any longer."

Rose blinked quickly. "I thought you still had some tricks to teach us?"

Claude shrugged. "If you two haven't figured it out by now, you'll be caught inside another month and nothing I have left to teach could stop that."

Raven frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rolling his eyes, Claude headed to the door. "It means I expect you two to use those heads for something other than decoration. I've given you everything I can, more than I planned on, as far as not getting caught. If you haven't figured out how to put that in action yet, I couldn't teach you any more if I wanted to." Opening the door, he glanced around and turned invisible. "Good luck, but don't bother trying to find me. I may get back in touch someday, but don't count on it."

After the door slammed closed, Rose and Raven looked at each other for several minutes. Finally Rose spoke. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Raven shrugged. "Go on about our 'lives' I suppose. Tomorrow Hannah Crosby goes back to work at the law office, and Eva Maddox goes back to the Crystal Palace so that Lady Electra can drag every man in by their throbbing cock, and every woman by her wet pants."

Rose laughed. "And tonight?"

Placing her hand on Rose's thigh, Raven dropped her voice. "Well, he did say we could shag later?"

Catching her breath, Rose reached over and began to caress Raven's breast, before being drawn into a deep, passionate, kiss. Breaking the kiss briefly, Raven nibbled on Rose's ear and whispered, "Shower, bedroom or right here?"

Her answer was to watch Rose running into the shower, leaving her shorts and tank thrown on the floor behind her.

**New York City, New York**

"So, where's the Ice Queen, Dad?"

Congressman Robert Malden looked up from his desk in surprise. "Elizabeth? You didn't tell me you were stopping by today." Standing up, he enfolded his daughter in a giant hug. "What brings you into these hallowed halls?"

Elizabeth smiled quickly. "Classes were cancelled today, so I thought I'd come around and see how you were doing. I see Tracy's gone." As hard as she tried, she couldn't hide the distaste she had for the woman.

Robert shrugged. "She talked me into putting Nathan Petrelli into Gerald's vacant seat. Turns out it was a good idea. The guy's popular, and naming him has raised my numbers considerably. But, it seems he wanted her to work directly with him and she, being the political animal she is, sensed that he has the potential to rise much further in politics than I do."

"Knock it off, Dad. Your numbers are high enough that you could seriously consider making a run for the White House in the next election."

Smiling, he led her over to his conference area. Once they were seated, he shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Liz. I may be able to carry the Vice Presidential slot, but I would never be elected as President. I know my numbers, but I also know what that race is like to numbers and egos." Grinning, he shrugged. "Besides, I'm perfectly happy holding this seat for another ten years." Pouring a Chardonnay for himself, he poured some iced tea for his daughter. Sitting back down, he gave her a piercing glance. "Now, how about you tell me why you're really here."

Taking a sip, she arched a playful eyebrow. Putting the glass down, she cracked a smile. "I never could fool you. I'm actually here about Petrelli. This revelation of his, combined with the recent tape by that terrorist group, could cause problems."

"What kind of problems?"

"To put it bluntly? It's possible he's a liability. You may need to distance yourself from him."

He looked at his daughter for a minute, and then went over to his desk. As he was digging through papers, he called out in a conversational tone, "Have you kept track of his polling data?"

"It's a little harder from my position, Dad. They don't give out raw data to us at University."

Grabbing the papers he was looking for, he walked back over and sat down. Handing her the first one, he said, "Those are Senator Petrelli's numbers, in every demographic, before his revelation." Once she'd looked the list over, he handed her the other page. "And those are his numbers as of one week ago, after the terrorist message."

She couldn't contain herself. "Holy shit! His numbers nearly doubled?" Looking back at her father, she waved the sheets of paper. "This is the raw data?"

"Completely. You know I don't trust the analysts to crunch it for me."

Glancing back at the sheets, she let out a low whistle. "He could run for President with these numbers, and no amount of dirt would matter."

"And now you know both why Tracy is no longer associated with my office, and why I am not only refusing to distance myself from Senator Petrelli, but actively working to even more closely associate my office with him."

* * *

_**June**_

**Hyde Park, New York**

She sat on the couch in horror. Luckily, Simon and Monty were still in school, although the year was about over. What she was watching had been delivered anonymously less than an hour ago.

Her former husband, Nathan, was having yet another affair. This was the fourth tape that had been delivered. Names had been supplied with each tape. There had been a woman named Janice less than a year after they were married. Then there had been Alyssa. Then a woman named Roxanne. Finally, on this tape, was a woman named Niki. To make it worse, this one had been while she was in a wheelchair.

She had known he was a dog from the time she had met him. She had been willing to tolerate that, until she had children. When Simon had been born, she had confronted Nathan. After telling him she knew, but didn't care, about his past affairs she had informed him she would tolerate no more. He was going to be a good father to his children, and he was going to become a family man. Although he had sputtered, she had stroked him by saying it would look better to the press if any affairs uncovered were years ago.

He had agreed. _Even when that reporter was sniffing around after I was crippled and revealed that Nathan had been with the blond, he lied to me. And he talked Peter into covering for him._

The expected hurt didn't manifest. She'd been hurt when she thought he'd lied to her about having the ability to fly. Seeing that proven on television hadn't made it any better, since the divorce had long been finalized. What seeing these tapes built in her was a burning anger.

Suddenly the phone rang. Stopping the tape, she picked it up. Before she had a chance to speak, a disguised voice came on the line. "Did you see the tapes?"

"Who is this?"

"Someone who knows more about your former husband than anyone else. He's been keeping secrets from you, from his children, from America and from all true humans. Do you want to know more?"

Heidi closed her eyes in very brief thought. "Yes."

"Good. You'll receive a letter tomorrow. Do precisely what it says, and all will be explained to you." With a solid click, the line went dead.

Heidi stared at the phone for several endless minutes. _What have I gotten myself into?_

**Albuquerque, New Mexico**

She stood under the pounding skies, letting the night storm carry her spirit into the heavens. She felt certain she could fly, but had no desire to do so.

As was her custom, she stood under the storm in what she had heard the Wiccans, and even some of those who worshipped the Old Gods among her people, refer to as Sky Clad. Nothing stood between her skin and the elements.

Suddenly she felt a disturbance. Something was there. She was not alone. Opening her eyes, she looked around. Before she could locate where the person was hiding, another man appeared beside her. Asian, apparently in his early thirties, wearing glasses and carrying a sword, he looked briefly puzzled. "Sparrow Redhouse?"

Ignoring her nude state, she nodded her head. "Who are you?'

"Hiro Nakamura. I'm here to save you." Before she could react, he had grabbed her by the shoulder and squinted his eyes. Suddenly, she focused on the person she had earlier sensed. She had just enough time to see him pull the trigger before the world vanished.

A second later, they had reappeared inside an abandoned warehouse. Hiro looked around briefly before nodding. "This should keep you safe. There is clothing here. When you are dressed, go into the city and find me."

"Why?"

"I have to be careful. I can not give you too much information, Sparrow. For that I am sorry. I know you are one of those who must be saved, because it is your actions that will help determine everything. Find me, though I will not appear as I do now. Tell me what I told you, and that you are to be protected at all costs." Before she could ask another question, he had vanished again.

Looking through the warehouse, she finally found clothing that was an approximate fit for her. When she left the warehouse, it was bright and sunny. Glancing around, she realized what had happened. _Japan? He brought me to __**Japan**__? I don't even speak the language. How in the __**hell**_ _am I supposed to find the him that doesn't look like him, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean?

* * *

_

_**July**_

**Washington, DC**

Nathan stood in front of over five hundred fellow Senators and members of the House. The joint session had been called for by the President, and both he and the Vice President were in attendance.

When the observers were added to the total, it jumped to nearly a thousand. _And that doesn't even count the camera crews and the millions that will be watching online and through their televisions._ It was his biggest moment, but he knew his family would not be proud. _Peter doesn't understand. And Ma? She's spent her life trying to keep us secret. She'll never accept what I'm about to do._

He knew his life would be in danger the minute he walked out of this building. That was why he had ordered extra security guards to be with him at all times.

When the preliminaries were over, and he had been introduced, he straightened his tie and approached the lectern. "My fellow Congressmen; I stand here today humbled that you have welcomed me into this august body after I was unable to fulfill the commitment when I was elected less than a year ago. I have done, and will continue to do, my best for my country, and for the great state of New York, which it is my honor to represent.

"I take my oath seriously. And that includes statements and suggestions that are perhaps not overly popular. However, I am prepared to accept that as long as I speak honestly, and with the best interests of this great nation, and my state, in mind.

"We are facing a threat, ladies and gentlemen, such as this country has never before known. There are among us, possibly in this room, men and women who, by their very existence, are a danger. Perhaps they do not intend to be a danger, perhaps they fully intend to live their lives as peaceful and law abiding citizens. But that is not something they can control any longer.

"I have demonstrated that there are among us those with what can only be called extraordinary powers. These people live among us. They walk among us. You can not tell who they are simply by looking. They go to our schools, our churches, our supermarkets.

"I have said they are a threat because they are. Not because of who they are, but because of what they can do. I have demonstrated my ability for unaided flight in front of the press and in front of the President. If any Congressman here doubts this ability, I will gladly demonstrate it within these chambers." Pausing for a moment, he looked around to see if his challenge would be publicly accepted.

When it wasn't, he continued. "By the very nature of my ability, I could be deemed a threat if I insisted on keeping myself secret. But I chose to expose myself, and my family, and perhaps many of you, have wondered why.

"The answer is simple. By exposing myself, I have exposed those like me. I have forced the Government to acknowledge we exist, and to take needed measures for the security of those people we are sworn to protect." Pausing, he took a small drink of water, and gauged the reaction. _It's going well. What I'm about to propose __**should**_ _fall on receptive ears. After that? Who knows? _

**Summersville, West Virginia**

Piper was running. Men dressed in black had invaded her home, and she had barely escaped. _I don't know what they want with me, but I'm not sticking around to find out._

Using her ability, she had slipped through her window, barely cracked open, and had fallen to the hard ground below. Returning her body to its natural proportions, she had immediately begun to run.

She started with a vague idea of running for help, but all the doors were locked and all the neighbors were asleep. So she ran.

_**Debbie! **__Where are you? Sanjog? If you're listening, I could use some help!_

And she continued to run. By the time she had covered a mile, her legs were starting to hurt. Before she could move more than three steps, two women dressed in black stepped from behind a tree. The tallest one raised her weapon and pulled the trigger.

Piper barely had time to register the pain as the soporific darts slammed into her chest. Before she had even fallen to the pavement, she was unconscious.

The woman who had fired the weapon pulled off her mask. Valerie Drake smiled coldly. Checking the vitals, she looked at her partner. "The bitch is down. Do we get the hell out of here now?"

Nodding, Daphne pulled off her own mask. "God, I hate these things. Pick her up, and we'll drop her off at the warehouse."

**WNKW19 Broadcast**

The anchorman looked grim as he faced the camera. "We have received another tape from the so-called 'Human League.' As before, we warn you that the tape contains graphic material not suitable to younger audiences, so we ask that you remove them from the room before we air it." After several seconds, his somber picture was replaced with the grainy image of the delivered tape.

Five people, one of them obviously a woman, garbed entirely in black as before, with the same masks and goggles in place, stood around a folding chair. To the chair was bound a middle-aged man, a little out of shape and barely conscious. It was obvious he had not been taken easily.

The man just to the left of the chair spoke. "We are the Human League. We are humanity's only defense against the non-humans that are among us, that believe themselves to be special. And our numbers are growing."

Gesturing toward the chair with one black gloved hand, the man continued in his disguised voice. "This creature went by the name Howard Grigsby. When we found him, he was using his ability to terrorize a human family. Tonight, justice will be served."

Nodding, he stepped aside and let the woman, apparently the newest member of the League, step behind the man. Drawing her weapon, she pressed it against the back of his skull. After a brief pause, she pulled the trigger.

Again, the silence was torn by the explosive sound of a gunshot. Again, the viewers watched as the bullet nearly destroyed the face as it emerged in a bright red spray of blood. Again, the camera focused on the dripping blood and brain matter.

"He has been executed for crimes against humanity." With this pronouncement, the camera once again focused on the five figures. The woman had once again taken her place as the leftmost person in the group. The man stared at the camera. "This is the fate that awaits all non-humans. You will be found. You will be hunted. You will be executed. And the true humans will flock to our banner." The screen went dark briefly, but almost immediately a logo replaced it. A bloody fist holding a dagger upraised through the carcass of a serpent. The words "Fight for Humanity" were proudly displayed above the image, joining and making a full circle surrounding the image with the words "Join the Human League" below.

**St. Luke's-Roosevelt Hospital, New York City, New York**

The pain was everything she had been expecting, and then some. It felt as if someone were using white hot pliers to rip into her flesh, and the pressure of squeezing what felt to be a significantly sized watermelon through an opening no larger than a pea.

She had refused medicine, believing that the pain of childbirth was as crucial to the process as the pleasure of creating and bringing a child into the world. _What the __**hell**__ was I thinking?_

She gripped the hand of her husband even tighter as a new contraction, making every other before it pale in comparison, tried to turn her body into a complex pretzel. Her legs pulled against the plastic pieces holding them separated and bent at the knee as the contraction ripped through her body.

"Just a little longer. I can see his head. One more good push and he'll be out. It's been an easy one so far."

She wanted to hit the doctor who had his head under her gown. _It's not __**his**__ body going through this. What the __**hell**__ has been so easy about this?_

Squeezing her husband's hand once more, she felt her body contract as, with a final push, it expelled the child into the waiting hands of the obstetrician. The newly born infant began to wail immediately. No matter what anyone else thought, the screaming was a siren call that immediately began to soothe the pains involved in bringing him into the world.

After quickly cleaning the blood and fluid from his body, the doctor placed the newborn in his mother's waiting arms. With a look full of love, ignoring the pain and discomfort she had just been mentally cursing, Angel Callaghan looked down and welcomed Felix into the world. The grip of her husband, Ishmael, on her shoulder tightened, and she knew he was weeping with the same joy that overwhelmed her.

* * *

_**August**_

**New York City, New York**

Doug had saved the most difficult theft for last. From the information contained in the file, he knew the Petrelli mansion to have security even the Louvre would envy. Although Arthur had supplied codes, he had made no promises about them working. _Of course. If Angela figures out he's alive, she's likely to change all of them._

Luckily, Pinehearst had taken all of his effects when they made the deal with the prosecution. That included the specialized suit he had spent so much time and money on. _If anything will help me, what I have in and on this suit should_.

Scanning through the visual inputs provided, he found only the security Arthur had given him the codes for. As he had spent the last 24 hours in the area, most of it camped across the street, hiding in the shadows, he knew nobody was in the house. According to what he had been able to discover, he should have several hours uninterrupted. _Several hours more than I need, if I'm right._

He didn't waste time. He stepped over the security beams crossing the sidewalk in front of the mansion, coming to a stop just in front of the door. Placing an electronic hacking device over the state of the art security box, he input all of the codes he had been provided, letting out an inaudible sigh of relief when they were all accepted. _Easier than anticipated._

Once inside, he called up the map. _The safe's on the second floor, inside her bedroom._ Making his way as rapidly as possible up the stairs, he wrapped himself in shadow so that not even a hidden security camera would betray his presence.

Inside the room, he scanned the walls and floor for the safe. Not finding it, he closed his eyes and remembered what had been in the file. Smiling in satisfaction, he carefully approached the desk. Using one of the tools at his belt, he pried open the center drawer at the left of the desk, exposing the keypad. Pulling out the hacking device, he fit it over the pad and waited for it to test the codes for the correct one.

Less than five seconds later, the device flashed a green light and the desk jolted from the floor, swinging aside and exposing the safe in the floor. Shaking his head, he knelt down and carefully input the code he had been provided. The safe opened immediately.

Tucked inside were a torn piece of paper and several stacks of bills. Glancing at the money, Doug's eyes bulged when he realized they were all stack of hundred dollar bills, and there were at least fifty in each of the five stacks. Doing some quick mental calculation, he shrugged and stuffed them each in a pouch attached to his shirt. Finally, he carefully withdrew the piece of paper and slipped it into a carry pouch that vacuum sealed itself when he pressed the edges together. After doing so, he slipped it into another pouch at his waist, and carefully closed the safe.

Less than a minute later, having taken only that much time to be certain he left no trace behind, Doug was out of the mansion and in a stolen Mercedes. By the time the sun rose, he would be out of the state and in another stolen vehicle.

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur held the two pieces of paper in his hands, barely able to contain himself. "Excellent work, Douglas. Better even than I anticipated." Looking up, he narrowed his eyes. "You're certain you raised no alarms?"

"Absolutely, Sir. There was absolutely no way they could know the items had been stolen until the next time they opened the safes. And there was no trace of how they had been stolen."

"I'm not trying to sound disbelieving here, but you are absolutely certain you left no trace behind?"

Doug tried not to show his insult at being questioned like that. _After all, he's my boss. And he could kill me, or have me killed, before I even knew what was happening. _"Absolutely. I've kept an ear to all police frequencies. There's nothing."

Allowing himself a grin, Arthur relaxed into his chair. "Good." Thinking quickly, he idly put the pieces of paper together. "Naturally, Angela will immediately know I'm responsible for the thefts. After all, these two pieces of paper are worth far more than the money you took while in them." Looking up, he flashed a quick smile. "Of course I know you helped yourself to the money. I don't blame you, and I don't have a problem with it, but don't ever make the mistake Angela made. I'm many things, Douglas, and not all of them are nice. But I'm not a fool." Glancing at the papers, he narrowed his eyes again. "Something's wrong here. But I'm not certain what." Handing the papers to Doug, he shrugged. "Take these down to Mohinder in the lab. Have him test the serum on the latest batch of, shall we say, recruits."

Taking them in his hand, Doug nodded and left the room.


	12. Chapter 11: August to December, 2007

_**August**_

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur stood in Mohinder's lab, watching as the mutated doctor sedated the final member of the latest group of test subjects. Stripping off his gloves, Mohinder swore fervently. "That's it, Arthur. The longest survivor, and he barely lasted two days." Glancing at Arthur, he shook his head. "And you saw the physical mutation." Scratching under his coat, he felt the growing scales and ichor as his body was slowly transformed. "Worse even than my own."

Swearing under his breath, Arthur turned away and stalked over to the board. "You used this formula?"

"I double checked the formula at each step. It was done precisely as indicated." Mohinder shook his head. "It grants abilities, absolutely. But something is missing. Some stabilizing agent, or catalyst, that controls and limits the genetic mutation."

Arthur cocked his head and whispered in thought. "A catalyst?" Pacing, he began to mutter quietly. "Angela wouldn't have done it. She's smart, but not that smart. Linderman? No, he was too much the fool and too blinded by his own greed. Kaito?" Pausing, he stared at the formula on the board. "Yes, Kaito might have done it." Walking over to the board, he focused intently on the formula. "Yes, but he wouldn't have written it down. No, he would have found a host of some sort. A human host, obviously. Holding that kind of power would destroy any normal human, but a healer?" Swearing, he resumed pacing. "His wife was a healer. She could bring the dead to life, but she couldn't cure her own disease." Stopping, he tapped a finger to his chin. "But just before she died, Kaito ordered one of our agents to meet him at Deveaux's place. Something about some final orders. Now…which agent was that?" Eyes brightening, he snapped his fingers. "Of course! Noah Bennet. The most reliable agent Primatech had at the time. He'd have cut off his own balls if ordered to do so. And the Company put a child in his care, a baby girl. Claire? Yes, Claire."

"Claire Bennet, Arthur?" Mohinder couldn't stop himself from blurting out the familiar name.

Arthur spun to face him. "You know her?"

Mohinder backed away briefly. "I think it might be more appropriate to say I know _of_ her, Sir."

"Is she a healer?"

"No. She's a regenerator. She cannot be hurt or killed by anything save decapitation."

A slow smile crept across Arthur's face. "Of course. A regenerator. Absolutely perfect. Thank you, Mohinder. I think you just solved our problem." Spinning around, he slapped his hand on the intercom by the door. "Have agents Daphne Millbrook and Douglas Wallace report to the lab."

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Doug glanced at his partner, unable to make out features through the specialized black outfits they were wearing. "You ready for this?"

Daphne tried to flash a smile at him, but had to settle for a brief shrug. "Let's just get it over with."

Doug reached into his pouch, and pulled out the gas grenade. "The gas will knock all of them out long enough for us to tranq them. The tranq should last long enough for us to do everything that needs to be done."

Daphne nodded briefly, and then took his arm. In a flash, they were across the street, and the door to the house was open. Noah and Sandra jumped to their feet just as the grenade landed at their feet. The boy, Lyle, didn't even have time to look up from his game. In less than a minute, all three of them were asleep. Doug glanced at Daphne. "Tranq them, then meet me upstairs. I'll collect the girl." At her reluctant nod, he sprinted up the stairs.

Claire, dressed only in a very brief pair of shorts and a white tank top, had collapsed in her room. _Good, the gas was as quick and efficient as advertised._ Drawing his weapon, he shot the specialized soporific into the swell of her left breast. Bending down, he dumped her over one shoulder.

By the time he straightened up, Daphne was at his side. "They're all under. Are we ready?" When he nodded, she grabbed his arm and immediately sped them away.

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Noah, Sandra and Lyle all awoke with blinding headaches and a burning pain in their side. Noah recognized the effects, but could do nothing for several sleep-fogged minutes.

When he realized what had happened, he screamed, "CLAIRE!" Sprinting up the steps, he stopped with relief at her door. She was just pushing herself up from the floor. Falling to his knees beside her, he hugged her tightly. "Oh, thank God. You're all right."

Pushing him away, Claire rubbed at her head. "Yeah, I guess."

From the door, Sandra looked in. "Noah? What the hell happened here?"

Noah looked around. _Everything seems in order. Just what the hell __**did**__ happen here?_ Unable to find an answer, he looked back at his wife. "I don't know, Sandra."

****************************************************************************

_**September**_

**Los Angeles, California**

Audrey was helping herself to a cup of coffee when her cell phone rang. "Agent Hanson."

The voice on the other end of the line sounded excited. "I think we've got something, Audrey."

Trying not to sound too skeptical, Audrey sighed. "All right. I'll be there in just a sec." Taking a sip from her Styrofoam cup, she headed back down the hall to the cramped office she was sharing with the two LAPD Detectives she had enlisted into her cause. "What is it?"

Tru scratched the back of her neck. "It may be nothing, God knows we've hit that enough, but there's a trail of missing and dead people going back over two years."

"Back to oh-five? Seriously?"

"Yeah." Leaning into the back rub her partner offered her, Tru gestured at the computer screen. "A lot of them are homeless, vagrants. But not all of them. There have been some notable disappearances and several notable deaths as well." Pointing out the names, she said, "This entire list is of people who died under what the coroner claimed to be a drug overdose."

"So?" Audrey rolled her eyes. "It's not that unusual."

Tru swiveled her head around and stared intently at her. "When every single one of their family members swear the deceased would never touch drugs, and there is nothing in the report that even hints at prior drug use?"

Audrey focused on the names. "Okay, you have my attention." Staring at one of the names, she asked, "Why does that name, Paulo Taylor, sound so damn familiar?"

Tapping a few keys, Tru brought up the information. "Probably because his sister is Raven Taylor."

Audrey closed her eyes for a second. "Yeah. She's a model of some sort, isn't she?"

When Ray choked back a laugh, Tru slapped him playfully on the arm. "Yeah, she was. Pretty famous, too. Anyway, she made a fuss after he died about how he never used drugs, and never _would_ use drugs. And the reports back her up. No history of drug use." Tapping another few keys, Tru raised an eyebrow. "Get this, back in August of last year she and her assistant, Rose Harkness, died when their car stalled on some train tracks in London."

Audrey sat back in her chair and took another drink of coffee. "That's a bit of a coincidence, isn't it?"

Ray nodded slightly. "Possibly too much of one. If she was raising enough of a ruckus over her brother's death, and she was famous enough to be heard, anyone responsible for it may have wanted to silence her."

Tru pulled up another list. "Here's the group of notables, meaning not vagrants, that are missing without a trace."

Audrey glanced through it. "Okay, I recognize the name Douglas Wallace. He was a thief, pretty damned good from what I've heard."

Tru pulled up the information. "Looks like his lawyer managed to cut a deal. But there's no record of what it might've been. And he hasn't been heard from since."

Ray smiled shortly. "Any chance he took the deal and stuck to it?"

Audrey laughed suddenly. "Not a chance in hell. He was arrested for an extremely high dollar, and I'm talking hundreds of millions, theft. And suspected of at least a hundred others. You don't get that kind of rep and go good because of a deal. You just get smarter."

Suddenly the list changed. Tru glanced at it quickly. "Interesting. A young woman named Donna Dunlop, a party girl called Barbara Zimmerman, and a teenager named Piper Jones have just been added to the list."

Audrey grimaced. _I hate having to look for kids. It never ends well._ "That's a pretty wide range of types. Obviously, if it wasn't evident before, we're not looking at a serial here."

Tru grunted. "No. Not a serial. I don't know, my gut's telling me this is bigger, and much worse."

Ray nodded. "I was afraid of that."

****************

**Chennai, India**

He strolled through the dream world. It had been a while since he'd allowed himself to venture this far. Ever since the nightmare over a year ago.

But now, he needed to see. Although others may not have realized it, he knew that dreams showed reality in a way the waking world obscured. _And I need to know what's happening, if I am to help those who need it._

The dreamscape, normally a world that was strangely peaceful, for all its bizarre nature, was in turmoil. Loved ones were missing. Loved ones were dead. Not just hundreds, but thousands across the globe.

And in the middle of the missing and the dead gloated the giant spider he remembered from the nightmare. Only now the spider was more massive, the web tighter and larger, the plot even more destructive.

The plan was dangerously close to fruition. Hope was now in short supply. Desperately, he sought for someone, anyone, who could help.

That's when he found her.

****************

**Tokyo, Japan**

She had found Hiro within hours of being dropped off in the warehouse. It hadn't even been that difficult. The minute she asked someone who could speak English, they directed her to Yamagato Industries.

When she had relayed the message to him, the Hiro who didn't look like the Hiro who had transported her from her native New Mexico to Tokyo, he had immediately, through his imperfect English, explained the situation to her. He was a time traveler and apparently his future self had jumped back through time in order to send a warning.

He had given her a room in his house and told her she was to make herself comfortable. She had immediately asked him to order her appropriate clothing. Instead, he handed her a credit card and told her to take care of it herself.

That had been months ago. Now, while they waited for something neither of them knew, she slept. And dreamed.

"Sparrow?"

Looking up quickly, she found a young man who looked to be from India in her room. "Yes. Can I help you?"

"You are here because Hiro from the future saved you. And you're not sure what to do."

Blinking, she stared at him. "That's pretty much it. Why?"

He looked upset. "Because the time is nearer than anyone anticipated. When you awake, tell Hiro to be prepared. The time for him to be the child is over. Now he must be the warrior. The world depends on this."

Before she could ask another question, he vanished. "Son of a **bitch**! I wish they'd stop pulling that shit on me."

With that comment, she woke up.

****************************************************************************

_**October**_

**WNKW19 Broadcast**

The reporter was standing outside the capital building in Washington, DC and had a puzzled look on her face. "I've just received word that the Senate has voted on the bill pushed through the House last month. I don't know what this means for the general public, but the Senate has approved a bill that forces all Enhanced Humans, as I believe they refer to them, to register with the Federal Government. Senator Petrelli, an enhanced human himself, has been placed in charge of the special taskforce ordered to incarcerate any EH who refuses to register. Over fifty billion dollars has been allocated to Senator Petrelli's taskforce for the express purpose of building escape-proof detention centers in at least four undisclosed locations to incarcerate those who refuse to register."

The anchor looked at the monitor. "I'm sure our viewers are asking the same question I am. How, exactly, do they plan to locate these so-called Enhanced Humans? To be honest, you can't do it by looking at them. Senator Petrelli looks as normal as I, but he's apparently one of them."

"There's no word yet on how they plan to locate them. All I could find, in the copy of the legislation a source showed me, was that part of the spending appropriations is apparently going toward DNA testing."

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Claire watched the television report in horror. Turning to look at her adoptive father, she tried to hold back the tears. "Dad? What's that mean?"

Noah stared blankly at the television. _All those years, all that time spent stepping over the line in order to keep Claire safe, and to keep people like her a secret. Wasted?_ Taking off his glasses, he rubbed his eyes. "I don't know, honey." Resting a hand on his wife's knee, he looked over at her. "I think I better go back to Primatech tomorrow. I have a bad feeling about this."

Sandra looked like she wanted to argue about it, but one glance at her daughter's face silenced her. "I think that's a good idea. Maybe we should all go."

****************************************************************************

_**November**_

**Arizona**

Sean Fallon looked around the room. His friends, and his lover, were the only people he could trust. "It's time. The government claims it will round up the ones who don't register. We all know that's a load of shit. They'll grab some, certainly, because it looks good on the televisions to do it. But they'll let even more slip through their fingers. They'll look the other way and let these creatures flaunt our laws. And this registration, we all know, is just a way for them to get special privileges. I won't stand for it. We start striking, and striking hard. If we see them breaking the law? We kill them. No remorse. Understand?"

When everyone nodded, he said, "Tomorrow we release another tape. It's time for the Human League to do more than kill just one at a time, or limit ourselves only to the so-called Enhanced Humans." He sneered with distaste at the term. _They're no more human than that dog Sylar. They're all just animals_. "Starting tomorrow, we hunt not only the EH, but those who deliberately hide them."

When the group had dismissed, he approached his lover. "I know you were married to him for a time, Heidi. Are there any left over feelings for him?""

Heidi stared at him in disbelief. "Of course not. The bastard's a liar and a cheater. I'd be tempted to kill him, if I didn't think I'd end up in prison over it."

Sean smiled. "Good. In that case, Heidi, would you be willing to marry me?"

By now she knew her lover well enough not to hesitate. _He may not be perfect, but at least I know he's not fucking the secretary when I can't see him!_ "Of course, Sean."

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

"You wanted to see me, Gael?" Blythe breezed into the room, barely restraining a laugh at his harried expression.

Glancing up, he rubbed his forehead. "Yes. I just got the memo from Angela. Primatech's making a few changes."

"Such as?"

"We're no longer simply policing what the government has decided to call Enhanced Humans. We're also going to be working as a sort of underground railroad for them. We need to get innocent ones out of the country before a dependable genetic test is developed." Pausing, he sighed. "Remember that project I gave you? Were you able to find anything?"

Shrugging, she mentally laughed at the immensity of the lie she was about to tell. "Not really. I found a bunch of leads, but nothing that lead anywhere."

"I was afraid of that." Taking a deep breath, he handed her a file. "You're transferred, as of now, to the Hartsdale facility. You will be working with Noah Bennet on figuring out how to get a few million people out of the country without raising suspicions." Standing up, he shook her hand. "Good luck."

****************************************************************************

_**December**_

**Tracy Strauss' Office, Washington, DC**

Tracy stood to greet her guest. "Valerie Drake?"

Val, in an unusually conservative business suit, shook the offered hand. "That's me." Looking around, she raised her eyebrow. "Where's the senator?"

Tracy smirked. _Arrogant little bitch, isn't she?_ "First you meet me. If I think your proposal's worth his time, I'll bring it to his attention. Would you care for a drink?"

Val sat in one of the stiff chairs and shrugged. "Whiskey, if you've got it. If not, I'll take a martini."

After Tracy poured and served the drink, she sat down behind her desk. "All right, so what's your proposal?"

Val sipped her drink, feeling the burn as the whiskey carved down her throat and exploded in her stomach. "I work for Pinehearst."

Tracy leaned forward. "Yeah, I got that much. I even know who they are. I was lead on the PR campaign to get them started."

Val shrugged. "We've had a breakthrough. Part of the problem the Senator's going to have with what he has planned is that he can't be sure about the people he's using on his taskforce. If they're normals, they can't hope to go against experienced Enhanced Humans. If they're Enhanced, he can't be entirely sure he can trust them. Pinehearst has developed a formula that can give abilities to normals- turning them, synthetically, into Enhanceds."

Tracy frowned. "You're certain?"

Val nodded. "Absolutely. We've already had some success with it. I was told to invite whoever I spoke with down to the primary facility in Fort Lee, New Jersey to personally verify what I'm saying."

Tracy thought about it briefly. "I'm not going to pass this on to Senator Petrelli until I'm positive about it. I'll check it out"

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Tracy was standing in the lab, looking around in amazement. "All of this from the investments I helped secure?"

"Not entirely."

When she turned to face the voice, she stared in shock. "Mr. Petrelli?"

Smiling, he strode forward. "You know me? I'm impressed."

Caught unusually flatfooted, she could do nothing but stare for several minutes. "But…you're supposed to be dead. Heart attack, or suicide, depending on which story you believe."

He laughed. "I know. And I've done everything in my power to stay dead, at least in the public eye. But I am the one who built this little enterprise. Would you like the grand tour? Possibly a look at some of our successes?"

The tour concluded with a visit to one of the nearby warehouses he had converted into, for lack of a better word, barracks. Looking around, Tracy let out a low whistle. "How many?"

Arthur glanced around. "I believe there were about a hundred volunteers for the procedure. As you can see, all successful."

Tracy shook her head. "Amazing." Pulling out her PDA, she added some notes to the ones she had been taking during the tour. "As you know, I worked PR for years. You have a problem."

Arthur crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "I do?"

"You need a public face for your company. A face people will trust." Shrugging, she threw him an apologetic glance. "You can't be it for two major reasons. The first is that you're supposed to be dead. We could deal with that, but the second is the real problem. Your ties with Linderman. All it takes is association to be dirty, and you were tied pretty closely with him."

Arthur smiled. "And what do you recommend?"

Tracy mirrored his smile. "If I stroke your son's ego just the right way, he will fully support your company, and you will have the most popular, and trusted, man in America as the public face of your company."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "You think he'll go along with it?"

Tracy put away her PDA and gave him an icy grin. "You have my guarantee, Mr. Petrelli."

"And what do you want in return?"

"I want you to find someone for me."

Arthur stared at her questioningly. "Pinehearst isn't exactly a headhunting agency, Miss Strauss." Pausing briefly, he thought. "All right. I make no promises, but I'll have my people look. Who are you looking for?"

"I recently found out I'm one of three sisters; triplets. Niki, one of my sisters, is dead. I've been unable to find the other. All I have is a first name; Barbara. I want you to find her for me."

"And if we find her?"

"Let me know. I'll decide what I want to do then."

"All right. I'll have my people look into it."

****************

**Pinehearst Holding Facility, United States**

She remembered running. And falling. The man had told her to run, so she had. As fast as possible, but not fast enough.

She still didn't know what had happened. When she woke up after the pain, she was strapped back to the table. The man over her, dark skinned and with hair and eyes as dark as his soul, shoved a needle into her arm.

She remembered pain. A burning pain that made her want to die. Her only wish had been to see Lucius charge through the door to rescue her.

And then she woke up here. _Where am I?_

She was no longer tied to the bed, so she pushed herself upright and looked around the cell. She was alone. The cell itself was smaller than the closet in the apartment where she lived with her husband.

A single observation window faced into the hall. The only other opening was a small ventilation hole in the floor near her bed.

Her hair had been shorn off at some point after her abduction. She couldn't remember if she'd still had it when they'd injected her. And her clothing, even the wolf's head pendant that had been a gift from Lucius, was missing. They had dressed her in a short tunic that barely fell to her upper thigh.

Before she could stand from her hard cot, she sensed a presence near her. _Not just a presence, but an abundance of power!_ Whipping her head around, she saw a man standing outside her cell. "Who the fuck are you? And what the hell have you done to me?"

Instead of answering, he studied her for several minutes. "Fascinating. Based on your reaction, I do believe we have a tracker. I don't believe we've ever seen one here before." With a cold smile, he crossed his arms. "I do believe we'll have you transferred to a more secure facility. I think we want to keep you around."

She tried to figure out what he was talking about, but the pure power she was sensing from him was threatening to overwhelm her. "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?"

"There's no need for such histrionics, Marita de Contego-Kemp. My name is Arthur Petrelli." Dropping the smile and mild tone, he allowed something unpleasant to bleed into his voice as he leaned forward. "And I think you will be a most useful addition to my little team, whether you're willing or not."

****************

**WNKW19 Broadcast**

The female anchor focused on the camera with a slight smile on her face. "Senator Nathan Petrelli and his personal assistant Tracy Strauss have scheduled a press conference to start in five minutes. Although no word has been received regarding the nature of the conference, it is to take place in front of the Pinehearst Company's primary research and development location in Fort Lee, New Jersey." After a brief pause, she spoke again. "Apparently, the studio wants to go to the live feed immediately."

The image of the newsroom and the anchor woman was replaced immediately by a view of the Pinehearst Research building, and the surrounding area. The camera panned up above the building just in time to watch as Senator Petrelli flew into frame and slowly floated to a skilled landing behind the lectern.

Setting Tracy, who had wisely chosen a form flattering pantsuit for this conference, to her feet, he approached the microphone with a ready smile. Just as he was about to speak, he slyly held up a finger and reached into the inside jacket pocket. Pulling out a comb, he ran it through his hair quickly, rearranging the windblown appearance, and put the comb away. Laughing, he shrugged. "Guess I need to check the weather reports a little closer. Turns out 'slightly breezy' translates into 'mild hurricane' at thirty thousand feet."

When the reporters and witnesses laughed, he shrugged. "Oh well. Live and learn, right?" Straightening his tie, he checked the height of the microphone. "I'm pleased you were all able to make it out here on such short notice. The two announcements I'm about to make will change the course of this great nation in different, yet equally profound, ways."

Looking around, he noticed several reporters staring at him skeptically. Offering them a small smile, he returned to his prepared speech. "Many of you have skeptically called the recently passed EH Registration Act a toothless dog. Specifically, you have referenced the lack of enforcement possibility due to the lack of an accurate test to determine if someone is an EH.

"I am pleased to announce that the Federal Government has seen evidence that Pinehearst is on the verge of a breakthrough for just such a test, and that they have contracted with the Government for that express purpose." At the stunned expressions of the reporters, he said, "My office has been informed that the test could be ready in as little as a month."

Without waiting for questions, he pushed on. "You have all heard, repeatedly, my revelations at the press conference in Texas. I want to take a moment to tell you why I pushed so hard for the registration act. I have seen those who use their genetically granted, some have even said God given, gifts to prey upon those who do not have such gifts. Since there was no other way to separate the bad guys from the good guys, especially with so many of the good guys carrying around dangerous, even unstable, ability, registration seemed the safest step to take. After all, cars and guns must be registered. Why should a man, or woman, walking around with the ability to cause more damage than a hundred guns be any different under the law?

"However, my chief concern was that those Enhanced Humans who had a penchant for violence would find easy prey among those who had no abilities. However, there now reason to believe this is no longer a concern." At a prearranged signal, the door to Pinehearst opened and a hundred seemingly normal people walked out of the building.

Turning to face the reporters, Nathan smiled again. "These are the first people to have volunteered for Pinehearst's Synthetic Ability program." Laughing quickly, he shrugged. "I don't understand all the technical elements, but the short form is that Pinehearst has developed and perfected a serum that will grant abilities to anyone."

Pausing, he glanced around the assembled group, noticing their astonishment with pleasure. "I am currently discussing the possibility of financial assistance, even the equivalent of scholarships, for those without the finances to take advantage of this breakthrough. The important thing however is that never again need people worry about those with power taking advantage of them because they are powerless." Smiling with genuine pleasure, he finished his speech. "The first steps toward a brighter future filled with equality have been taken."


	13. Chapter 12: January to February, 2008

_**January**_

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Doug looked around the conference room. It was filled with faces, some familiar and others that weren't. _I see Maury, that new girl Val, Daphne, Knox and Flint. I'm not seeing Elle anywhere, though. And where's Gray?_

Choosing the only open seat, beside Val, he leaned over to the leather clad woman. "Any idea what's going on?"

She shrugged. "Not sure. I figure he'll tell us when he shows up."

"And I will." Arthur walked through the door, nearly making Doug jump out of his skin. Val laughed quietly at his surprise.

Approaching the head of the table, Arthur looked around. "Seems like everybody's here who should be. Some I've already discussed this with, and others won't be involved." Smiling coldly, he sat down in the plush chair reserved for him. "Pinehearst has gone global. We have positive media coverage in every country, and we have the backing of the most popular politician in recent history. We're making money hand over fist leasing the test we developed last month to the government as well as selling the serum to the general public." _Of course, for every test there's a cheat. And we're making a fortune with that on the black market, as well as selling variations of the serum on the black market. But there's no need to tell them that._ "Not to mention, there's talk of using Pinehearst personnel, who have proven themselves reliable, in the special force designed to contain those Enhanced Humans who refuse to register. In other words, as far as America and most of the world is concerned, we're golden."

Smiling coldly, he leaned forward. "The problem is there are currently two companies in America. There's only room for one. We have been attacked by Primatech repeatedly. Just yesterday, our IT people barely stopped a targeted virus from destroying everything we've worked for in these halls. We recently lost a team of Black Coats while on a field mission. Evidence indicates Primatech was responsible for that as well." _And I'm still pissed off about that necessity. But some of these will hesitate to do what is needed if they don't see a clear threat. Walker and Nikita could've been good Black Coats, but the greater good demanded their sacrifice._ "If we don't eliminate them, they'll eliminate us."

Flint leaned forward, an unhealthy gleam in his eye. "Whaddya need, boss?"

Arthur glanced at Maury. "I need you to pay a visit to Sabine Hazel. We need everything she knows about Pinehearst."

Maury looked nervous. "She'll have had training in blocking a telepath."

Arthur just stared at him. "That wasn't a request, Maury. It was an order. If you have to, give her a dose of Ketamine if you have to, but get inside her head."

Maury hesitated for another minute, and then left the room. Daphne watched him leave with a puzzled expression on her face. "What, exactly, are we going to be doing?"

"As I said, they want to eliminate us. They've already opened this little war. We're going to retaliate, and we're going to win."

Cal raised her hand tentatively. "Mr. Petrelli?"

"Yes, Miss Drake?"

"Not to be a pain in the ass, but how do you plan on taking out something as huge as Primatech. They have at least a thousand agents running around, and no less than a dozen facilities."

Arthur leaned back and flashed a quick smile. "I know. After all, I helped build the Company into what it is today. The truth, however, is that it won't very difficult. At least not as difficult as the numbers make it sound.

"The overwhelming majority of Primatech's offices around the country are staffed by agents who, though capable enough, are never going to rise further within the Company. Primatech could lose almost all of those offices and agents, and they wouldn't even blink. Within a month, the staff would be replaced and within a year the offices would be rebuilt."

A calculating grin crossed his face. "But there are three primary facilities without which the other offices would soon die." Pushing a button on the desk in front of him, a projector turned on behind him. "The first is the facility in Hartsdale, New York. Not only is it the central office, the hub, of the Company, where you will find the highest ranking members when they're not in the field, it also contains the primary containment facility." Nodding at Knox and Flint, he smiled. "It is there you will find the infamous Level Five. Where Primatech holds what it feels to be the most dangerous of its captured Enhanced Humans." Waving at a pair Doug didn't recognize, he smiled. "Allow me to introduce to you another couple who escaped that fine facility. Tina Ramierez and Michael Fitzgerald." Losing the smile, he continued. "If we take out that facility, a large percentage of the Company's records will be permanently lost, and there will be an immediate shortage of manpower for them to draw on."

Pushing another button, he moved to the next facility. "This one is in Odessa, Texas. It may not look like much, but it is literally the second most important facility Primatech has. It contains the primary research and development facility. Everything Primatech discovers is stored there. Until recently, they had the most dangerous virus ever created housed in that facility. There are countless other viruses and diseases, even cures for almost every conceivable illness, stored in a vacuum sealed vault in the sub-basement of the facility. There are many artifacts stored there as well. This facility is always run only by the single most trusted and reliable supervisory agent the Company has. It is staffed by agents that man, or woman, picks. They are always the best the Company has to offer." Leaning forward Arthur drove his point home. "If you think of Primatech as an army, the agents working at and running this facility would be the equivalent of the Rangers or Delta Force. Absolutely the best. Take that facility out, and you deal a nearly fatal blow to Primatech."

Leaning back, he pushed the button again and pulled up yet another facility. "This facility is in San Diego. It is only slightly less important than the other two. It's the building from which Primatech runs its most important operations. It is always run by the man, or woman, who is second in command to whoever is running the Company at the time. When Linderman was in charge, he had Sakamoto running things. When Bob was in charge, his protégé Gael Cruz ran it. Now that Angela's in the main chair, we have no idea who is in charge. It may be Gael still. She always worked well with him. The important thing is whoever's running the San Diego facility doesn't need to check in with the leader of the Company. They run all operations the way they believe they should be run. The only times they must check in with the head of the Company are when something they're running has the real risk of revealing the existence of EH's and the Company to the world, when they require additional personnel, or when they need to open one of the cash reserves. Take them out, and you cripple operations within the Company."

Turning off the projector, he stood. "Understand this; taking out any one of those facilities hurts the Company badly, nearly to the point of destruction. Taking out all three kills the Company completely. If we do this right, we can either sit back and watch as the sundered branches of Primatech wither and die, or we can pick them off at our leisure. "

Doug raised an eyebrow. "Sounds great, boss. If they're coming after us, I say we take them down and do it hard. The only problem I'm seeing is how and when."

Arthur nodded quickly. "You will be split into three teams. Each team will be given one of the facilities as a target. The teams will be chosen to best combine stealth, power and skill. Assignments will be handed out in the following days. The attacks will take place next month."

****************

**Lima, Peru**

Santiago Urbina stood at the front of the cathedral. It had been an interesting, and tumultuous, relationship. It started the day he discovered he had an ability. _Accelerated Probability, I think she called it._

That very day, he had encountered a woman on the way home. Less than ten minutes later, he found out he wasn't the only one with a special power. That was followed by being abducted and taken to Elisa's employer, a woman who was willing to do anything to force his cooperation. _Not the greatest start to a relationship._

Within the next several days, his world had turned completely upside down and inside out. Elisa had helped him escape, betraying the Company she worked for. His father, who had supposedly died years ago, returned and killed the woman chasing them.

Slowly, he had fallen in love with Elisa, and his parents had reunited and his father had moved back into the home. Everything had led to this day. _Almost as if there was a destiny in play that I couldn't see._

His focus moved from the men and women seated in the cathedral as the opening chords of the bridal march swelled through the ancient chamber. He watched the back as the massive doors opened and his bride walked through in all her radiant beauty. He could just see Elisa's, soon to be Mrs. Santiago Urbina, smile under her veil.

****************

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

Micah looked at the computer screen. There was no video, but he could follow everyone in the building through the GPS in their cell phones. Pushing the button on his radio, he glanced at the computer screen. "You need to get under cover, Monica. Looks like two of them headed your way."

Her voice came back over the radio. "Any way to divert them, Micah? There's nothing for cover in here. And it's St. Joan, not Monica, while I'm working."

Shaking his head, he chuckled and sent out an emergency signal to their phones. "Yeah, I keep forgetting that part. They think there's an intruder spotted one floor up from you. Get the kidnap victim and get out. I doubt you have more than five minutes before they figure out something's up."

****************

**Yamagato Industries, Tokyo, Japan**

Hiro looked at the board of directors. He had taken the past several months to consider his options after Sparrow's sudden appearance and mysterious comments. _This will let Father down, but there is no other choice._

Clearing his throat, he uncomfortably straightened his tie. _I hate these things. _"After much consideration, I have made the unfortunate realization that I am the wrong person for this job to which my father appointed me. I have discussed this with the person whom I will designate as my successor, and we have agreed that, effective immediately, I will step down from the position of Chief Executive Officer for Yamagato Industries. Instead, I will become President of the Yamagato Fellowship."

One of the board members looked at him carefully. "And who is to run the business? Your father was explicit that it was to stay in the Nakamura family."

Hiro nodded. "I am aware of this. Although I know it flies in the face of tradition, something my father was a strong proponent of, I believe Nakamura Kimiko to be the best fit for this position, and have acted accordingly in naming her my successor." Before the board could argue, he held up a hand. "She has already accepted, and has indicated her willingness to prove herself to the board."

Standing up, he left the room while the board still struggled to accept what he had said. _Now to do as future me said. I must become a warrior. I will use my ability, and my father's money, and learn from the greatest swordsmen of the day. Now to explain why I must leave to Ando and to Sparrow._

****************

**Edgewater, New Jersey**

Maya sat in the middle of the floor of her living room in the small apartment. She had tried religion. She had begged Mohinder to cure her. She had tried everything possible to rid herself of her ability.

When Mohinder betrayed her and Petrelli refused to take her ability, she had fled from the Pinehearst building in rage; barely holding her ability back. She left the city, but lacked the money to leave the state.

She took a job as a hostess in a small restaurant and rented this apartment as soon as she could. Never far from her mind was the tenuous control she had over her ability.

She couldn't let herself get stressed. She couldn't watch her favorite movies. She couldn't even mourn her brother. Anything that brought strong negative emotion broke the grip she had over her ability.

She had spent months being helpless. Ever since her ability first manifested. Always an extremely emotional woman, she had been forced to face the fact that those emotions were now a weakness she could not afford.

So she had enrolled in a yoga class, and taken lessons in relaxing meditation. Now she sat in the full lotus position, working on that inner peace that was so central to control of her ability.

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Angela stared across her desk at the slight Chinese woman. "I'm sure you're wondering, Miss Park, why I brought you away from your assignment in China."

Hsiu-Mei Park, native of Beijing and permanently assigned to the Hong Kong branch of the Company, shrugged. "The question had crossed my mind, Mrs. Petrelli."

Angela smiled mirthlessly. "We have a problem. As you know, the Company was founded by those of us with powers. Daniel Linderman could heal others and Robert Bishop was an alchemist. My own gift is to see things that will happen through dreams. I recently had a dream about you, my dear."

Straightening in the chair, Park swallowed nervously. "And what did you see?"

"That I need you to leave for Japan immediately and locate Hiro Nakamura."

"Why? My work in China is important. I do not even speak Japanese."

Angela sighed. "Hiro speaks English, and will become more proficient. More importantly, if you stay within the Company, as you are certain to do if you remain in China, you die."

"I…don't understand."

"There's a storm coming, Miss Park. I haven't seen when, or where, it will strike, but it is somehow going to strike the Company. If you are still within the Company when it hits, you will be killed."

Hsiu-Mei stood up. "Very well. When do you need me to leave?'

Angela stood as well. "Immediately. You will still receive your Primatech salary, though it will be filtered through the Yamagato Fellowship. You will find Hiro Nakamura, or someone closely associated with him, in that facility in Tokyo. Tell them all I have told you." Shaking Hsiu-Mei's hand, Angela led her to the door. "You will still be employed by Primatech, but only you and I will know that. Your records, all trace of your existence within the Company, will disappear."

"Understood. Who do I report to?"

"Nobody. As of now, you are a completely independent agent. If the time comes when the Company can reestablish contact, it will be done."

****************

**Kermit, Texas**

Contrary to what she'd told Claire all those months ago, she hadn't left the country. She hadn't even left the city. _I learned a long time ago. The best way to hide is to be in plain sight._ She had taken her trailer and moved to another trailer park on the other side of the city. The only thing she had moved out of the state was her cell phone. That had been dumped in an eighteen wheeler at a gas station where she worked part time.

She was just coming home from a late shift when she noticed a light on in her trailer, and her door was unlocked. Immediately cautious, she readied a low flame in her palm.

Bursting through the door, she stared around the room, her flaming palm held ready, low at her side. From the living room, a voice spoke near the lamp. "Hello, Meredith."

Spinning around, she launched a small ball of flame at the sound. "OY! What the bloody hell? Trying to kill me?" The man belonging to the voice faded into view as he beat out the flame that had landed on his ancient coat.

Readying another flame, she stared at him with fury in her eyes. "Jesus, Claude! What the fuck are you doing here?" When he didn't answer, she raised her hand. "Tell me, or the next one doesn't miss."

Rolling his eyes, he made sure the last of the flames were out, and then faced her. "There's something big going down, Meredith. Something bigger than anything I can deal with alone."

When Meredith simply stared at him, he sighed. "Listen, I'm hiding two people from Primatech. I'm also hiding two people from this new group that showed up, Pinehearst."

"Get to the point, Claude. I'm not exactly a fan of yours."

Claude raised an eyebrow. "Just because of that one little incident?"

Meredith folded her arms. "You mean the one where you tried to fucking kidnap me and take me in by force? The one where you stole my damned baby? Yeah. That one."

Claude shrugged. "Just following orders."

"That's what they said in Nuremberg too. Get to the point."

"There's something big coming down. Pinehearst is growing, and has gone public. The world knows we exist now. Primatech isn't going to take that lying down. Pinehearst, if they know Primatech exists, knows that. They're both going to be…recruiting our kind. Heavily. On top of that, the US government is ready to use that test Pinehearst developed to hunt us down and force us into those damned camps they're setting up."

Meredith used her finger to light a cigarette. "Do you plan on getting to the point sometime before morning?"

"There's already too many of us hiding, Gordon. You here, me wherever I can. My four. However many others are running around. The more of us there are, the fewer places there'll be. As much as I hate the idea, I need to know if you're interested in helping me out with a project."

Meredith laughed. "You're kidding, right? You want me to help you? I don't even like, or trust, you."

"You think that matters? I don't like or trust anyone. But we've got a problem, and the only way we're getting out of it is to work together." Walking to the door, he shrugged. "The only way they'll be safe is if we get them to a country without a strong Pinehearst presence. Japan's a good option, so is China."

Meredith stared at him for a minute. "Pinehearst only exists in the West. The main presence is America and England. If you want to hide people, pretty much anywhere else is safe."

Claude opened the door. "Primatech has offices scattered all over the Americas. And over most of the EU." Turning invisible again, he said, "If you want to get people out of here, check out Japan and China. I think they may be our best options."

****************

**Washington, DC**

Nathan looked around the packed room. The largest conference room in the building the task force had been assigned, and it was still filled beyond capacity. The Enhanced Human Task Force, _we really need to work on that name_, was crewed entirely by volunteers. Every branch of the military was fully represented, and even members of the CIA black teams had enlisted.

Stepping forward, he cleared his throat. Once he was certain he had everyone's attention, he began. "I've just spoken with the President. Part of our appropriations have been specifically tagged with building multiple containment facilities for the EH's who refuse to register themselves. Those facilities are being built as we speak. Pinehearst has lent several employees for technical assistance, specifically as regards containment and nullification. The facilities should be open by March. Once they are open, they will be the most secure facilities on the planet.

"There will be several smaller facilities scattered across the nation, but there will be three primary facilities near Kaltag, Alaska, Lincoln, Nebraska and Wellton, Arizona. These were chosen because of their relatively remote locations, as well as the sizable land available."

Looking around the room, he focused on each individual member of the force as he made his next statement. "All EH's in the United States have until those facilities are open to register with the Federal Government. Once they're open, that's when our mission begins. The test has already proven effective, and it will now be a required part of all physical examinations. The tests will be performed before a child can register for school, during the enlistment phase of military recruitment, and even randomly at all workforces.

"According to the law, any adult who fails a test and is unregistered will be given the opportunity to prove, via brain scan and polygraph, that they were unmanifested at the time the law went into effect. The parents of any child who fails a test and is unregistered will be given the same opportunity.

"If they fail either the brain scan or the polygraph they are to be considered in direct violation of the law and a direct threat to the security of the United States. They are to be immediately apprehended and taken, without benefit of trial, to the nearest Task Force office to be sent to one of the containment facilities. Once in, they are held indefinitely."

Pausing again, he looked down at the table and then back at the men and women in the room. "You were all given the same speech when you volunteered for this duty. Once in, you can never leave unless your enlistment period expires or you retire. I will give you one more opportunity to make that decision, now that you know precisely what this task force will be doing. Anyone who does not report for their duty shift tomorrow will be released back to their respective units, no questions asked." Narrowing his eyes, he said, "But this is your final time to back out. After tonight, you will not be allowed to leave. Make your decisions now." Taking his notes, he left the room.

****************************************************************************

_**February**_

**Briefing Room 1, Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur stepped into the room and scanned the half dozen men and women in satisfaction. He knew some of them would die during the operation. _But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. As long as Gabriel returns alive, the others can all die and I'll consider it successful._

Clearing his throat, he waited until they were all looking at him before speaking. "It's time. You are Assault One, and your target is the facility in Hartsdale, New York. As I said last month, this is Primatech's prison facility. Every prisoner is to be brought back here, where they will be faced with a choice." _No need to tell them what that choice is. I have plans for those prisoners, plans I can't even share with Gabriel._ "All Primatech agents you encounter will have exactly one chance. If they stand aside, or join us, they live. Otherwise, I want them dead."

Focusing on Gabriel, he smiled coldly. "Have fun, son. If someone has to die, and you like their ability, feel free to take it."

Throwing a set of pictures on the table, he said, "You will have some help from inside." In turn, he pointed at the images. "Connie Logan and her daughter Penny. They've been working for us since November of two-thousand six. They want to free Julien, Connie's husband, from where Primatech is holding him. When they've done that, assuming they manage to survive it, I want them brought here."

Heading to the door, he looked over his shoulder. "Gabriel's lead on this op. Now, gear up and head out."

****************

**Briefing Room 2, Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur walked into the room and caught the group's attention. "You're Assault Two, and Knox is running point. Your target is the Odessa, Texas facility. Doug, you take the vault. Bag everything that's safely portable, destroy everything else. Val, you're on the computers. Copy every file they have. Odessa's the hub, so you'll have access to the entire system. I want everything, down to the last nanobyte. Once you've got it, destroy the system."

Glancing up, he looked at the remaining members of the squad. "Everyone else? Primatech agents get exactly one shot at survival. If they join us, or at least stand aside, they live. If they don't, kill them. Any prisoners they may have, or anybody they're studying, gets brought back here." Heading to the door, he snapped out, "Gear up and head out."

****************

**Briefing Room 3, Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

He sighed as he entered the room. This was the least reliable of his assault teams. _To be brutally honest about it, if they all died it wouldn't bother me much. The only one I'd miss would be Daphne, she's at least worth keeping. Flint's a loose cannon, at best, and Maury's weak. I've been half tempted to kill them myself._

"All right, this is it. You guys are Assault Three, and you're taking out the training facility near San Diego. Flint, you're running this thing. Daphne, I want you to get them in with a minimum of fuss, and I want you to bag everything that isn't nailed down. If there's a question about it, bring it. If it's worthless, and obviously so, destroy it. Maury, I have a couple requests of you. First, sew as much confusion as possible. Turn them against each other, have them suicide. Go to town in there. But, before you leave, I need you to contact Connie and let her know we're moving."

Looking around, he carefully concealed his distaste. "Any prisoners they may have are to be brought back here, alive. Any Primatech agents get one shot at surviving this. If they join us, or stand aside, we don't kill them. If they won't? We take them out. Now, saddle up and get to work."


	14. Chapter 13: February, 2008

_**February**_

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

"Honey, I'm home!" Gabriel couldn't contain the laugh of pure pleasure that burst from him as, for the first time in months, he allowed Sylar out of the cage. Raising an eyebrow, he watched as a trio of Primatech agents approached him and his assault team. Grinning, he raised his hand to stop his team. Glancing at Michael and Tina, who were impatient to get started, he shrugged. "We're supposed to give them a chance, remember?"

Shaking his head, he raised his voice. "Hey guys, long time no see. I'm on the job right now, but my boss wants to let you know you have a chance to join the winning side." When an agent he had never taken the time to familiarize himself with pulled out his weapon and squeezed off a shot, he used his telekinesis to catch the bullets and slap them back at the shooter. "You have exactly one chance. Join us in our little pleasure cruise here, or at the least don't get in our way." Staring at the bleeding body on the floor, he shrugged. "Otherwise, you join your buddy."

From behind him, he heard a familiar scream. Without turning, he said, "Hello, Felicia." He heard her collapse on the ground behind him as Tina stopped her from slamming into his back with her ability. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled. "Thank you." Staring curiously at the woman on the floor, he shook his head. "How long for her to wake up?"

Tina shrugged. "I gave her a small dose. Maybe five minutes?"

"Good. I think I want her awake when I take her ability. It's always fun when they scream." Looking at the two remaining agents, he raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

The taller agent, a middle-aged man, raised his weapon. A second later, there was the explosive sound of gunfire.

****************

**Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

Knox waved Val ahead. "Get us in."

A second later, Val had hacked the computer system, giving them complete access. Leading them into the elevator, he had Doug hide them in the plentiful shadows of the elevator. "Once we get down there, we split up. Doug, you take a couple with you down to the vault. I don't want you concentrating on anything but your job. They'll be there to keep your ass out of trouble. Same for you, Val. Take someone with you down to the computer lab. Make it Trish. She's got more than enough power to protect you and let you worry entirely about getting that information the boss wants."

Val ran her hands down her leather bustier, smoothing the black leather miniskirt. "And what about you?"

Knox smiled coldly. "I'm going to go in, raise a little hell, and see if how much blood I have to spill before finding people worth taking back." Pointing at a random pair of Pinehearst agents, he said, "You and you. You're coming with me."

Exiting the elevator, they emerged into a long hallway. Tapping Doug on the shoulder to drop the shadow, Knox stepped out in front of the group and shot the security camera. "That should get their attention." He smiled when a group of agents ran into the hall. Raising his gun, he caught the sound of weapons being readied around him. "All right, Primatech. You have a chance. If you want to live, either put your weapons down, or come over here."

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Using her ability, Daphne made several trips to move the entire team past the gates without being spotted. Seconds later, they were inside. Flint shoved her out of his way, and looked around the small entranceway. "Look, this is how we're playing it. I don't give a fuck about anything but having fun here. Do what Petrelli told ya, but kill everybody who gets in your way."

Daphne rolled her eyes in irritation. _What an ass. Can't believe Arthur stuck me on this team. Hell, Knox is more tolerable. Even Sylar._ Without even confirming Flint's command, she launched herself down the hall, barely slowing to open the doors between her and her objective.

Spotting her visual wake, Flint grinned. "Looks like the stick in the mud's gone, boys. How 'bout some fun?" Raising his hand, he launched a bright blue flame at the nearby wooden wall, laughing when it immediately started to burn.

The fire alarm immediately went off, and a dozen agents burst into the hall. "You ready, Parkman? I want this to be fun." Stepping forward, he built a ball of bright flame in his palm and ran his free hand over his bald scalp. "All right, boys and girls. Here's the deal. Primatech's goin' down. You can join up with the winning side, that's us, or you can even stand aside. Or you can go down with your bosses. To be honest, it don't much matter to me."

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Sylar watched as the first agent slowly collapsed to the floor, blood dripping from the exit wound in the front of his skull. Looking at the second agent, he smiled. "Good decision." Tossing a Pinehearst pin across the room to him, he shrugged. "You're one of us now. Join the group."

Looking around his small group, he stopped when he saw Felicia Brooks blinking back to consciousness. "Good. I almost forgot about her." Pausing for a minute, he looked at Michael and Tina. "Take a couple of our guys with each of you. Head through the building, giving the same choices to every Primatech you find. Don't be afraid to break things. And don't be afraid to make it bloody."

Dismissing them, he knelt down beside Felicia and stroked her face. "Hello, Miss Brooks."

She stared up at him with disgust in her eyes. "Fucking prick. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm attacking. It's what I'm best at, after all." Shrugging, he extended his hand. "I was told to offer you a chance to join us. I think the boss would like you on his team."

Spitting at him, she extended a suddenly glowing hand and grabbed his elbow. "Fuck you, dickwad. I'm gonna kill your ass, then I'm taking out your team."

Jumping backward, he swore as her ability destroyed his arm. "Shit! That stings!" A couple seconds later, he focused on Felicia's face as his regeneration kicked in and the arm grew back. "Oops. Guess you hadn't thought I might have grabbed a new power or two." Extending the fully healed arm, he used his telekinesis to grab her by the throat and throw her against the wall. "Now, I think I'll add yours to my collection. I think it could be useful."

Grinning coldly, he used his other hand to draw slice open her skull, gloating as she screamed in agony.

****************

**Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

The agents stared at the invaders in stunned amazement for less than a second. Almost immediately, Knox and his team were facing better than a dozen weapons. Knox took a whiff of the air, and immediately smiled. "You people stink of fear." Moving almost faster than the eye could move, he grabbed two of the nearest enemy agents and slammed them against the wall hard enough to pulp bone. "Thanks for that."

Suddenly the air was filled with flying lead and energy. Trish sped to each member of the assault team, touching them for less than a second before moving on. Each person she touched immediately felt surprisingly invincible.

Bullets bounced off them, more often than not being slapped back along their original trajectory and hitting the shooter. Directed energy blasts flowed along the contours of the target, but never harmed them.

The Primatech agents, however, weren't as lucky. Knox was using them for punching bags, with each thrown punch causing fatal injuries. Doug was quick and silent, years as a thief coming into play, as he used his gun and blade to kill everyone in range. Valerie was nearly as lethal with the blades that had sprung into her hand, apparently concealed in the bodice of her bustier. The other non-powered agents were similarly lethal and precise with their blades and guns, and the powered agents used directed energy blasts to take out their targets.

Less than a minute later all the Primatech agents were dead and lying in pools of blood. Knox looked around with a tight smile on his face. "Good job, guys." Throwing a glance at Val and Doug, he said, "Well, what are you two waiting for. Get going."

With a shrug, Doug spun around and selected two agents at random. "You're coming with me." Glancing to his side, he saw Val had done the same thing. Walking over to her, he made a suggestion. "Let's keep our groups together for a while. The vault and the computers are in the same area, so we're not taking any longer. And there's safety in numbers, as they say."

Val shrugged. Without another word, they sprinted down the hall at the head of their chosen teams.

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

Flint's smile broadened when he realized nobody was going to give up. "That's kinda what I was hopin' for, guys." Glancing over his shoulder, he let out a laugh. "Well, let's take 'em out."

Without bothering to look, he launched flame from both hands, listening with pleasure to the screams from his random targets. His team proceeded to follow his lead, launching weapons' fire and energy blasts into the Primatech agents in front of them. Before their opponents could fire a single shot, they were slaughtered.

Turning off his flame, he looked around. "Well now, that was boring as hell. I sure as fuck hope your buddies can put up a better fight, or this here job's just gonna suck."

Leading his team through the halls, he stopped for a second. "Wait a sec, guys. Let's go ahead and split up. If we all go the same route, it's gonna take longer than I'm interested in bein' here to get the job done." Separating his people into two teams, he said, "Okay. My group'll take a left at the next intersection. You boys head to the right."

Before they made it to the intersection, a large group of agents ran out to meet them, surrounding the team before Flint even realized what was happening. Spinning around, he shrugged. "Oops." Staring at them, he asked, "Anyone feel like surrendering?"

In response, every agent in the hall readied their weapon. Flint smiled. "Good."

****************

**Angela Petrelli's Office, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Angela was in her office with Noah and Blythe. Staring at the monitor in horror, she collapsed into her chair. "It's over."

Turning to look at her, Noah removed his glasses and started to clean them. "Pardon?"

Turning to face him, the look in her eyes surprised him. It was a dead look, as if what she had lived for had collapsed around her. "Don't play coy, Noah. This is the end of the Company. I have reports that they've hit Odessa and San Diego as well. This is our death blow." Taking in Blythe and Noah with a quick glance, she rubbed her forehead. "All I ask is that you get the innocents out of here."

Noah straightened up. "Of course. Anything else, Angela?"

Smiling coldly, she shook her head. "No. Try and get back to your family, Noah. They're going to need you now. The world's about to become a dark place."

_Between this blow, and the betrayal from Nathan, her son, it's no wonder she's depressed. If she gets out of this, I'll talk to her later._ Taking Blythe by the arm, he led her to the door. "Let's get to work. How many of them are there right now?"

Blythe thought for a second. "Maybe two dozen. We were getting them papers. They were supposed to be moved overseas tomorrow."

"All right." Closing the door behind him, he headed down the hall with her. "Let's round them up. Maybe they can still be smuggled out."

****************

**Level Five, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Sylar looked around the cells. _Exactly the way I remember it. Just…fuller._ They'd managed to recapture most of the escapees, and had apparently caught a few others as well. _Looks like they grabbed that idiotic vortex guy. Can-something, I think. Canfield, maybe?_ Shrugging, he glanced around. He'd managed to shut down the grid before. _Although that was mostly with Elle's help. Still, at least I know where to look for the power._

Walking over to the wall, he winced at the scorch marks outlining where he had been thrown against the wall. _I really should've paid Claire a visit before coming here. Stupid, rookie, mistake. Damned lucky she didn't get me killed._ Running his hand up the wall, he levitated with his telekinesis until he found the spot where Elle's ability had blasted into the wall. _Looks like this is it. Even if it isn't the exact spot, Felicia's ability should help me destroy the right area._

Concentrating for a second, he called up his newest ability. His arm and hand began to emit an almost painfully bright glow, and he laid his open palm on the wall. Within seconds, he was elbow deep in the wall as fine sand poured to the ground. Using his telekinesis to trace the glowing arm along the scorch marks, he smiled when there was a loud popping sound. _That's it._

Cutting off the disintegration touch, he lowered himself to the ground. Watching the inmates come warily out of their cells, he realized he didn't feel even the slightest trace of hunger for their abilities. _Is that the key? Not burying it, but controlling it?_ Stepping forward, he lowered his arms in as non-threatening a gesture as he could. "Listen, guys, I'm not here to kill any of you. The group I'm working with wants to offer you something. All it'll take is a few minutes of your time."

Canfield stared at him nervously. "Why should we trust you? Ain't anybody here doesn't know you, Sylar."

Sylar narrowed his eyes. "Because if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made it out of your cells. If you know about me, you know nobody ever escaped."

One of the others, a man Sylar didn't know, gave out a rough snort. "Bullshit, Sylar. What about that Petrelli twerp and that little blonde cheerleader?"

Sylar shrugged. "Peter's not a problem. I didn't particularly want his ability, so I let him go." _Maybe not the whole truth, but as much as this idiot needs to know._ "As for Claire Bennet? The cheerleader you're talking about? You tell me if she got away." With great care, he used his telekinesis to slice open his forearm, holding it up for everyone to see. Their reactions when the wound healed only seconds later made it worth it. "Besides, I'm not offering you a choice. You will all go with me to Pinehearst. Once there, you'll be given the option my boss has waiting for you."

Canfield shook his head. "I don't think so. I'm going back to see my wife and son. And no damned serial killer's gonna keep me away from them a second longer!"

In a burst of rage, Sylar telekinetically slammed Canfield into the wall hard enough to knock him out. "I AM NOT A SERIAL KILLER!" Using the telekinesis to control the suddenly sleeping body, Sylar dumped him over the laughing man's shoulder. "Like I said, you don't get a choice. You're coming."

****************

**Level Seven, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Debbie awoke suddenly. It took several groggy minutes for her to figure out what was wrong. _The air's different_. Sniffing, she felt a disbelieving smile cross her face. _The drugs are…gone?_

Sitting up, she found the knife she had carefully, over several years, filed on the stone walls and floor of her cell. Originally part of the frame of her cot, it was now sharp enough to shave her legs and arms with.

Holding it in her open palm, she concentrated. When the knife bounced slowly moving across her palm, she laughed. Jumping to her feet, she slipped into the prison outfit they had graciously allowed her, and tucked the knife in her waistband.

Grabbing the door with her slowly strengthening ability, she forced it open. There were two agents running through the hall, but she didn't even give them a chance. Ripping her knife from her pants, she used her ability to hurl it through the air, slicing through both of their throats. Smiling viciously, she wiped the blade off and tucked it back into the elastic of her pants.

Ten minutes, and three agents, later, she had changed clothes and was outside. Looking around quickly, she swore. "How the fuck am I supposed to get to Summersville?"

****************

**Computer Lab, Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

Val sat down at the desk and pulled the disks from the pack at her belt. Slipping it into the drive, she smiled and set to work, pausing only for a minute to look over her shoulder. "You two know the drill. Keep my pretty ass from getting holes in it. Give the idiots a chance to surrender, but don't give them a chance to fire at us first."

When they nodded, she got back to work, muttering under her breath as she worked. "First things first. Let's take a look at personnel records." As she set to work, the world around her faded away. _Gotta trust them to do their jobs so I can do mine._ An idle thought ran through her mind, quickly crushed. _I wonder how Doug's doing._

****************

**The Vault, Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

_Oh please. This isn't even a challenge._ Doug approached the vault with a confidence born from years of experience. _Don't know that I'd have tried this without having people all over causing enough noise to distract Primatech from the vault, but it's still almost too damned easy._ "All right guys, keep them off my back, and get the bags and boxes ready."

Shaking his head, he put his careful hands on the dials. _It's always a simple code._ Seconds later, he heard the soft click as the locks were disengaged. Grabbing the wheel, he chuckled. Swinging open the massive doors, he stared in awe at the interior. _I…think we're going to be here a while._ "All right guys, let's get to work. We don't want any of those vials." _Wait a second…what's the deal with those vials of blood?_ "Cancel that. We're taking the vials of blood. We're not taking any of those that are marked like viruses. I don't want the risk of breaking any of those and letting them loose."

Moving deeper into the vault, he stared at the items behind glass doors. "I think we're taking everything from this section though."

Mickey, a black Pinehearst agent who had followed right behind him, blinked in shock. "What the… We're taking the brain too?"

"Yeah, we're taking the brain too, Ricky."

"Umm…it's Mickey, Sir."

"Whatever." Taking one of the briefcases, he dialed it open and started carefully stacking items in it. "We're taking everything we can fit, other than the viruses."

****************

**Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

Knox looked around the hall in disgust. "What the fuck's Primatech threaten their people with? You'd think at least _some_ of the rats would be willing to jump ship." Shaking his head, he shook the blood from his hands and looked around. "All right, let's get back to work." Suddenly his radio buzzed. Swearing, he hit the button. "Knox."

Val's voice came from the other end. "I'm in."

"I care why?" Stopping, he looked around quickly. "Wait, can you set the self destruct when you're done?"

"Yeah. How long?"

"It'll maybe take another twenty or thirty minutes for us. Let me get in touch with Wallace." Disconnecting, he contacted Doug. "Talk to me, Wallace!"

"We're in, and we're loading everything. All we're leaving are the viruses. I'm not interested in taking that risk."

"Understood. How much longer?"

"Maybe twenty minutes?"

"All right." Disconnecting, he called Val back. "Just talked to Wallace. Said it'll take his group maybe twenty minutes. How strong is the destruct?"

He heard the sound of tapping keys. "Looks like the equivalent of three high yield thermo bombs. Basically the equivalent of a pocket nuke, but without the radiation."

"Will it take out any viruses in the vault?"

"As long as he leaves the door open. Wait a sec." After a couple seconds, she spoke again. "Cancel that. Tell him to close the vault when he's done. There's a device of the same strength inside."

"Okay. Set it for forty-five." Disconnecting, he called Doug back. "You've got thirty. Once you're done in there, close the vault door. Drake says there's a self destruct designated strictly for the vault." Putting his radio away, he looked around. "All right. Let's get back to work, people. We only have thirty minutes."

****************

**Storage, Primatech Research, California**

Daphne looked around quickly. Smiling, she unstrapped the thick briefcase and pulled the bags out. _It'll take me a little while, but it's worth it. Anything to stay away from that bunch of dumbasses._

Approaching the wall, she took the baton she was carrying and smashed out the glass. Rapidly, she began piling weapons in the bags. Grabbing the radio, she called Flint. "I'm gonna be busy for about a half hour."

****************

**Gael's Office, Primatech Research, California**

Cruz watched the monitors in horror. The bald pyrokinetic was leading his team through his halls with a fury that terrified him. _My people are being slaughtered. I __**knew**__ I should've asked for more qualified agents. These idiots they gave me are great for training, but pretty much pathetic for anything else._

Grabbing his phone, he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Bianca? Can you come into my office?"

Ten minutes later, she came through his door. "What's the deal, Gael? I was getting a team ready to take care of those idiot intruders."

He shook his head. "I don't know what the hell they are, but they're not idiots. Look at this." Rewinding the tapes, he showed her the footage. "They're good, and they're vicious. We've lost a few agents who saw how things were going and jumped sides. Other than that, everybody they've faced has died. The bald guy sent a few of his people down to our detention area, and they've already broken them out and rounded them up. They sent that blond bitch down to the storage room. Apparently she has super speed, because it only took her a second to get down there, and I can barely see her moving around in there."

Bianca swore. "All right. So what are we going to do?"

Gael stood and grabbed his weapon from the desk. "Honestly, I want to get you out of here alive. So we're hauling ass."

Bianca stared at him. "You're joking, right? Even if I wanted to leave, Angela would have our ass for abandoning our posts."

Spinning his computer around on the desk, he pulled up the footage from Odessa and Hartsdale. "Don't count on it, babe."

Leaning forward, she stared in horror. "Shit! What the fuck's going on?"

He shrugged. "Other than the obvious, I don't have a fucking clue. Someone's decided to make a move, and they're taking out the three hubs of Primatech." Tossing her an extra weapon, and tucking one into his jacket, he grabbed the door. "The Company's going down, and I'm not willing to watch you die with it."

Staring at the monitor for another minute, she took the secondary weapon in her hand, and nodded. "All right. Let's get out of here, baby. You know where we're going?"

Shrugging, he tried to smile. "I've always heard Paris is beautiful this time of year."


	15. Chapter 14: February, 2008

_**February**_

**Primatech Research, California**

Flint swore in rage. The bullet had gone through his left shoulder. Glaring at the woman who had pulled the trigger, he held up his good arm. "You're gonna pay for that, bitch!" Blasting flame, he targeted the hand holding the weapon. Once that had been reduced to cinders, he fanned the flame across her screaming body.

Spinning around, he glared at Maury. "What the fuck happened, Park-dick? You're supposed to be confusing them!"

Maury shrugged. "Some are harder to confuse than others. And, umm, that's one person out of fifty. Even a telepath can only manage so much."

"Well manage better, damn it. Or I'll leave your smoking ruin here with them when the place blows!"

Maury was about to reply when there was a sound of a single shot. Flint's forehead disappeared in a spray of blood and bone. Stiffening suddenly, Flint had enough time to draw a reflexive breath, and then crumbled to the ground.

Maury threw a startled look at the fallen agents. One of them was lying so that his bloodied arm was resting on the burnt woman's back, steadying the gun as he took aim again. "We can't have that." Using his ability, Maury convinced the agent to kill himself.

Glancing around, he swore quietly. "All right. We're down a heavy hitter. Let's get to work."

****************

**Level Five, Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

Connie and Penny were working feverishly. They had both received the telepathic message from Maury at the same time, but had waited for Pinehearst to arrive and start making noise before making their move.

Connie took a break from cutting the connections between her husband and his clones to stroke his face. "We'll have you out in a minute, baby."

Penny cut the last connection, and watched Connie catch Julien when he fell away. Glancing anxiously at the door, she waited while her mother tried to carefully slap him awake. "Mom, listen."

Looking at her quickly, Connie blinked. "Mom? You haven't called me that in years."

Forcing a smile, Penny shrugged. "Seemed fitting. Listen, you need to get Dad away from here."

Staring at her daughter for a second, Connie almost agreed before the significance of what she'd said filtered through her mind. "Wait. _I_ need to get Julien out? What about you?"

Penny looked around the room in disgust. "Someone needs to destroy this room. I don't know Pinehearst's plans, but I know this room is never going to be used again. You're actually the stronger one of the two of us. Dad's going to need your support getting out of here. I'll catch up with you outside, but I'm going to destroy this room first."

Connie stayed where she was for a minute before nodding agreement. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and crossed the room. Wrapping her arms around her daughter, she pulled her into a tight embrace and kissed her. "I love you, Penny. I've not been able to say that lately, but it's always been true."

Penny kissed her back. "I know, Mom." Hugging her tightly for a second, she hesitantly pushed her away. "Now get Dad out of here."

As soon as her parents were out of the room, Penny whispered, "I love you too, Mom." Looking around, she swore. "There's a self destruct in all of these rooms. Where would the bastards hide it in here?" Kicking one of the dying clones out of her way, she smiled coldly. "Of course. Right where nobody would look for it." Opening the barely noticeable door, she revealed the keypad. Keying in the stolen security code, she set the timer for five minutes. "Time enough for me to get the hell out of dodge."

Sprinting into the hall, she ran into Thompson. "What the fuck are you doing down here, Eric?"

Glaring at her, he said, "I could ask you the same thing." Glancing in the direction she had come from, his eyes widened. "There's only one thing you could possibly be interested in down here. How the hell'd you find out?"

Pulling out her weapon, she swore. "None of your damned business."

Slapping the gun out of her hand, he threw her against the wall. "What the fuck are you doing down here, bitch?"

Penny spat in his face. "None of your damned business, Primatech!"

Without even blinking, he pulled out his gun and shot her in the chest. Dropping her corpse, he left the area at a sprint. "Stupid cunt."

****************

**Company Offices, Hartsdale, New York**

Noah was inputting the final commands into the computer; setting the Hartsdale facility's self-destruct. _If I hurry, I can get home before this place blows._ Looking around the office quickly, he shook his head. He'd wanted to bring the Company down less than a year ago, had even moved his family across the country so he could do it while they were safely hidden. _Not that it worked out like that. Still, this isn't how I wanted it to go._

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his door being destroyed. _Fuck!_ Spinning around, he pulled out his weapon and fired off four shots before even seeing who had entered.

Sylar was framed by the doorway, the four holes in his chest already closing. Glancing at the wounds, he raised an eyebrow and looked at Noah. "Ouch." Flinging out a hand, he used his telekinesis to throw him across the room, smiling coldly when he heard the distinct sound of an arm breaking. "That hurt."

Noah looked up from the floor, grimacing because of the broken arm. "Hello, Gabriel."

"My name's Sylar!" Grabbing Bennet with his telekinesis again, he lifted him off the floor, shifting the grip until it was a stranglehold. "And I think I should pay you back for what you did to me."

Noah stared at him. "What I did to you? You were a killer when I first saw you, Gabriel." _Don't antagonize him. Don't antagonize him. Don't antagonize him._ "You'd already murdered Davis for his ability, and it was only a matter of time before you killed again."

Gabriel tightened the grip. "I WAS KILLING MYSELF WHEN YOU SHOWED UP!" Throwing Noah against the wall again, he stalked closer. "You and that cute little bitch, Elle, stopped me from doing that. I wasn't going to kill again, Noah. I was going to stop the monster. But you and your little protégé had other plans!"

Noah stared at him, for the first time being faced with what he had done. _I was following orders, like a good Company man. That's all it was to me. Just another order to be followed without question._ Blinking, he shook his head. "You're right, Gabriel. Elle did stop you from committing suicide that day, and I was outside telling her what to do. And we baited you until you had no choice but to cave into the monster inside. All because the Company was curious about how you took abilities." Turning his head, he stared into the mirror on the wall. _Not really liking what I see there either._

Looking back at Sylar, he tried to explain. "I was following orders, Gray. That was it. You've worked here. You know how it goes. If you get an order, you follow it. You don't question it."

Tightening the grip further, Sylar lifted him further off the floor. "You think that makes it okay? That you were just a grunt, and just did what you were told?"

Noah shook his head. "No. At the time, I thought it did. After I was forced to face what following orders would mean regarding Claire, I knew there was a choice I had never taken before. But it wasn't until Angela brought you into the Company that I was forced to face my responsibility for what happened to you."

Sylar stared at him in confusion, letting the telekinetic stranglehold relax. "What? You wanted to kill me, Noah. Hell, you tried everything you could to get me killed on the job!"

Noah nodded. "Why do you think I did that? Partly because I hated you, of course. I don't think I can ever forgive your attacks on Claire and Sandra. And I sure as hell won't ever forgive what you put Claire through when you stole her ability last year. But I also didn't want forced to witness what my actions, or inaction, had helped create."

Sylar blinked in bewilderment, dropping Noah to the ground. "What the hell are you telling me this? You realize I'm going to kill you?"

Noah nodded, leaning against the wall and cradling his arm. "I know. But I also know you deserved the truth from at least one person. Elle didn't want to go through with it. I forced her to. Remember that if you ever encounter her again, please." Pulling the key out of his pocket, he tossed it across the room. "You'll need that."

Telekinetically catching it, Sylar brought it to his hand. "Why?"

Noah nodded at the nearby filing cabinets. "More secrets. Angela's been keeping a couple big ones from you and someone else." Standing up slowly, he kept his broken arm against his chest. "There's someone who needs you now, Gabriel. Angela said you were capable of being a good man. I agree with her. You may never be able to make full amends for the lives you've taken, the people you've ruined, but you can try."

Sylar opened the folder and glanced through it. Looking back at Noah, he sneered. "This is bullshit, Noah."

Bennet stared at him calmly. "If it was bullshit, it wouldn't have been locked in Angela's safe where you never would have found it. She didn't want you to know, Gabriel. Hell, she didn't want _me_ to know. But it's apparently the truth."

Sylar looked back at the file, still disbelieving. "You lie, Noah. You've lied for as long as I've known you. What the hell makes you think I'd believe you now?"

"And you've killed, Gabriel. You were a killer when I first encountered you. You've been a killer as long as I've known you. But I believe you're trying to change that. If you weren't, everyone you freed in Level Five, everyone you're working with on this mission of yours, would be dead." Stepping forward, he extended his hand. "If I were lying, don't you think I could've come up with a better story? You know me, Gabriel. I've always been damned good at lying my way out of trouble if I needed to."

Sylar stood silent for a minute. Indecisive, he opened the folder. After scanning the information, he swore silently. Looking back at Bennet, he made a quick decision. Stretching out his hand, he tossed him through the door. Stepping to the computer, he pushed the final keys.

Stepping over Bennet's unconscious body, he keyed his mic. "All right, guys. We have twenty minutes to get the hell out of here. Get what we came for and haul ass." Taking off the radio, he held it in one hand and the file in the other. After several seconds, he dropped the radio and left the building. ."

****************

**Company Offices, Hartsdale, New York**

Blythe Anders had been in her office, deleting the files regarding the innocents Primatech had begun hiding, when she heard the attack. Without blinking, she pulled up the surveillance program on her computer and began paging between cameras. _Son of a BITCH!_

She spent several seconds watching the attack, finally pulling herself away when Sylar left the rest of his group behind. Closing the surveillance program, she hurriedly set up a program to delete the rest of the innocents and stood up.

Grabbing her weapons, she turned her ability on, blending into the background, and began running to Bennet's office. She arrived just as Noah came flying through his door. _What the fuck?_

Pressing against the wall, she heard Sylar issue a command on his mic and leave. Once he was out of sight, she became visible and knelt at Noah's side. Waiting until he opened his eyes and saw her, she whispered, "What the hell's going on here, Noah?"

Shifting position, he looked around the hall and swore. "The fall of the Company, Blythe."

Narrowing her eyes, she grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Bennet?"

Shrugging, he let his head rest on the concrete in the hallway. "Just what I said. The Company is over. Done. As of now, it's nonexistent." Focusing on her, he tried to smile. "Get the hell out of here. Try to get a life that doesn't revolve around what we do." Before she could say something else, he held up a hand. "Quiet!" Closing his eyes, he listened for a second. Snapping his eyes open, he focused a cold gaze on her and spoke in a deadly quiet voice he had learned long ago got the best results. _I used it on Claire when she was just a child. She called it my 'dad voice.'_ "Turn on your ability and get the fuck over to the wall now!"

When she did as he ordered, he lay down on the ground, waiting to find whose footsteps he'd heard. They stopped beside him. Opening his eyes again, he saw Eric Thompson, Junior standing over him. "Hello, Eric."

Thompson stared at him for several long minutes. Finally, he crossed his arms. "What happened to you?"

Noah shrugged again. "Sylar."

Raising an eyebrow, Eric laughed coldly. "He let you live?" Uncrossing his arms, he reached inside his jacket and looked around. "You know, there's nobody around right now. And the cameras are offline now. I think they hacked in and started deleting anything that would show who caused all this. Which means, there's nobody to see me if I decide to kill you."

Noah grinned. "I wondered when it would happen."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't be an idiot, Thompson. At least, not more of one than you already are. You've been considering killing me since I came back to the Company. The only reason I'm not already dead is that you're a coward. You didn't want it traced to you. But now, with everything going on around the place, with Primatech collapsing under the attacks, there's nobody around to see you take me out, and nobody to trace it to you in any event." He deliberately looked around, his eyes not even pausing where he knew Blythe had gone into hiding.

Thompson looked around quickly; as if afraid someone might come into view at any second. Laughing, he pulled his gun. "You were wrong, Bennet. I've wanted to kill you since you left the Company the first time, not since you came back. But you were right in me not wanting anyone, other than you, to know I was your killer." Leveling his weapon, he began to squeeze the trigger. "This is for my father. This is what happens to murderers."

With an explosive sound, the bullet exited the barrel and went through Noah's chest, narrowly missing his heart. Eric ran a practiced eye over him and laughed. "Good bye, Noah. I think I'm glad you're going to die slow."

When he had run out of the area, Blythe dropped her camouflage and ran over to the body on the floor. Tears were streaming from her eyes as the only person in the entire Company who had treated her like a person lay gasping out his final breaths. "Why didn't you even try to fight? Why'd you egg him on?"

Gasping slowly, Noah smiled as he felt his life slowly seeping from the gaping hole in his chest. "Because….I knew…I wasn't…getting out…alive. Gabriel…broke my back." With a hacking laugh, he closed his eyes. "I don't…even think…he knew. He…was…trying to keep…me alive." Opening his eyes, he fixed her with an iron gaze, for one moment keeping the pain out of his eyes. "Let Sandra and…Claire know what…happened. I don't…want them to…live with the false…hope and dread…of not knowing."

Gently, she took his hand in her own. "Of course, Noah."

Closing his eyes, he felt the numbing sensation slowly covering his body, easing the chill that had overwhelmed his limbs. "Live, Blythe…Amore Anders…Find a life…and leave this…behind…Don't…become…" With a gurgling sigh he died, leaving his final command unfinished.

Blythe knelt by his body, letting the tears fall freely while she held his now cold hand. It was a long time before she moved. ."

****************

**Primatech Research, California**

The Haitian had been listening to the sounds of battle for several minutes before the invaders had made it to his room.

Normally assigned to the Hartsdale facility, now that Bennet no longer ran the Odessa center, he had been sent here only days ago at the order of Angela Petrelli. She hadn't told him why she wanted him here, nor had he asked.

He recognized the leader of the small group that broke into the room. Instead of attacking, he sat in the nearest chair and refused to raise so much as an eyebrow.

He watched as Maury Parkman and the others attacked and slaughtered nearly two dozen Primatech agents, including Berk Donahue, Leonard Cushing, Liza Messer and Sebastian Shell.

When they looked at him, weapons ready, he nodded and raised his hands, standing to his feet as he did so.

Maury threw a suspicious glance at him. "You're not fighting?"

The Haitian merely stared. _How little they understand. It is fate that the Company should fall. It is the will of the loa that I should live. As I have always lived._ Briefly, his thoughts drifted back in time. To his father. To the village of his birth. To the day when his father died and the villagers were destroyed by his ability.

Shrugging at the Haitian's continued silence, Maury looked at the remainder of his team. "All right, looks like he wants to join up." Turning on his mic, he called Daphne. "How much longer are you gonna be?"

Daphne grunted as she dumped the last of the weapons in her sack. "Maybe another five minutes. Which is good, since we only have about eight before this place blows sky-fucking-high." Pausing for a second, she rubbed her shoulder. "Where's the bald moron Arthur put in charge?"

"He was killed."

Daphne smiled briefly and got back to work. "Good."

****************

**Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

Val ran out of the computer lab and nearly collided with Doug. Veering away at the last second, she matched him stride for stride down the long hallway. "Did you get everything, Wallace?"

Shifting his shoulders slightly as he ran, moving the pack into a more comfortable position, he laughed. "Yeah. How much longer we got?"

"Not even five minutes. We have to get the hell out of here now."

"Did you tell Knox?"

"Yes. He and the others have been herding people outside the building and getting them out of here."

Doug grinned. "Good. Then let's you and me get the hell out of here."

She grinned coldly. "Do you think you can keep up?" Despite being the shorter, she sped up and started to outdistance him.

He raised an eyebrow and matched her speed. "I could probably outrun you, but I think I prefer the view from back here."

****************

**Primatech Research, Hartsdale, New York**

The alarms suddenly came on. Glancing up from the several-minutes dead body, Blythe blinked at the flashing red lights. Several seconds later, she realized what was happening.

_The self-destruct was tripped._ She didn't have a clue how long she had, but was willing to bet it was going to be barely enough time to get out of the building.

Releasing Noah's hand, she rose from her knees and called up her power, concealing herself in the myriad colors from the alarms. Running through the halls, she sprinted through the main door, nearly tripping over Thompson as he stood with the group that had helped destroy the Company.

He glanced around the small group, dismissing the released prisoners, and smiled. "So it looks like you're the only game in town now. Where do I sign up? And don't you think it's time to get the hell out of here?"

For a second, she considered killing him. She knew her own training well enough to know she'd be well away from where the shot was fired before he even hit the ground. But it was that same training that stopped her. _I don't know what's going on here. I don't know what I'm up against. Better to stay hidden. Better to stay safe_.

Changing direction, she quietly sprinted into the darkness. Seconds later, the night was torn apart by a brilliant light and a deafening explosion. Throwing herself to the ground, it was several minutes before she could bring herself to look back.

She gaped in horror as her life was incinerated in the explosion that had shaken her world. _If they ever find out I escaped, they'll kill me. I'm only safe if I'm hidden._ Noah Bennet's final request filtered through her mind. _I'll find his family, let them know he died. Then I'll disappear._

****************

**Primatech Research, Odessa, Texas**

Val and Doug exited the building at a dead run, on the heels of Knox and the remaining members of the assault force.

Taking a deep breath, Doug glanced around. "Where are the people you grabbed?"

Knox shrugged. "Already at Pinehearst. Had them taken out a while back. We were just waiting for you two. How much longer?"

Val looked at her watch. "Less than a minute. How about we get the hell out of here? As in now?"

They felt the beginnings of the teleport just as the explosion tore through the night. Less than a second after they disappeared, concrete and steel tore through the space they had occupied.

****************

**Primatech Research, Near Los Angeles, California**

Daphne returned from her third high-speed trip to the nearby safe house, where they waited transportation to the Pinehearst. Looking around, she shrugged. "We're leaving Flint's body here?"

Maury grinned coldly. "We don't have the time to go in after him."

She scratched the back of her neck. "Fine by me. Are we ready?"

When Maury nodded, she laughed. "Hold onto your panties, guys." With no further warning, she grabbed the hands of the last two in place and took off. Even at her speed, she barely outran the explosion as the final major facility belonging to Primatech was destroyed.

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur looked around the small room. There were over a hundred people who his teams had freed from Primatech's incarceration. The only Pinehearst agent in the room was Maury Parkman- the only person he could trust to follow the orders he was about to give.

Connie had been temporarily roomed with Valerie Cooper. _That will change shortly. I have plans for Miss Logan._ He still hadn't decided if Julien would survive his recovery or not. _There's time enough for that decision._

Staring at the assemblage in front of him, he cleared his throat and brought their attention to him. "You were freed from incarceration by my people, at my orders. You now face a choice. You can work for me, as a part of Pinehearst. Or you can choose not to work for me."

One of the people he had liberated, _capable of creating and manipulating vortexes, if I recall_, looked at him skeptically. "All I want is to get back to my family. I've had enough of mysterious companies to last more than a lifetime."

Arthur smiled coldly. "That's your choice, my friend." Staring at his audience, he smiled. "Those who wish to work for me have only to leave the room now. You'll start with a clean slate, and nothing that has happened before will matter in any way."

After nearly half the group had filed out of the room to take jobs in his company, his smile turned cold. "The rest of you have made a choice you will, no doubt, come to regret in time. Your choice was to work for me, and experience freedom for the first time in years, or to enter into an imprisonment that makes Primatech look like a daycare." Turning his gaze on Maury, he nodded. "You know what to do, Parkman."

Grinning cruelly, he spoke to the group one last time. "You will each be locked in your own private nightmare. I will have you freed only when the time comes to test your abilities. I promise you, the testing will make the nightmares seem like heaven." Turning his back, he walked out of the room as Maury began to lock each individual into the worst of all possible imprisonments.

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Doug shrugged out of his black coat, hanging it in his closet. His Pinehearst quarters were spacious by any standards. _Not even the fancy hotel rooms I occasionally stayed in could compare to these rooms. The boss apparently likes to keep us happy._

Once again, he carefully crushed the doubts about exactly why Arthur Petrelli needed the kind of men and women he had recruited. _Most of us are thieves or thugs, or both. Whatever he has planned probably isn't nice._

He walked to his refrigerator and opened an imported beer. After a long pull, he nearly choked when he heard a voice say, "Grab one for me too?"

Spinning around, he saw where the voice had come from. Valerie Drake was standing in the doorway. _Wearing…not very much. _Opening the refrigerator door again, he pulled out a beer for her. "Any particular reason why you're here?"

Taking the offered beer, she shrugged. "Just curious about a couple things."

Leading her into his small TV room, he offered her a chair. "About?"

Crossing her legs, she smiled into her bottle as his eyes followed the slight rise of the leather micro-skirt. "Partly about what we just did."

Raising an eyebrow, he leaned back in his chair. "What's curious about it? We took down a Company that, according to the boss, was standing in the way."

"Yeah, but I know Primatech. Sure, they pissed me off and I jumped ship as soon as there was a ship to jump to. I'm just wondering if this job's really any better."

He sat down his beer. "I'm not sure what you're saying."

Shrugging, she continued drinking. "I'm not sure either. Maybe it's just because I don't trust anyone to tell me the truth. But I can't help feeling like there's more to the story than we've been told. And I'm really curious about what's going to happen to any of the people we brought back who decide they'd prefer not to work for him."

Doug stared at her for several minutes. Then he grabbed his beer and took a long drink. "Honestly? Been kind of wondering the same thing meself." As always, his faint accent grew more noticeable when he was worried about something. "But I have a problem. You took the job willingly, which means you have the comfort of knowing ye've got something else to do if this job don't work out. I don't. It was either this or jail."

Val blinked slowly at him. "Yeah, I chose to work here. But that doesn't mean I have anywhere to go if it doesn't work out." Looking down, she tried to smile. "If I got fired, assuming they let me leave, I'd just end up back on the street."

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he was quiet for several minutes. "What happened to them may be something to think about, but I don't know that it's something we should talk about." In an attempt to change the conversation, because it was drifting uncomfortably close to doubts he was having about the job, he cleared his throat. "What was that other thing you were curious about?"

Smiling coyly, she shrugged. "Just something you said earlier."

"I said something?"

Standing up, she shrugged out of her coat, and he nearly choked on his beer. His earlier thought that she wasn't wearing much had been a profound overestimation. When standing, her leather micro-skirt barely fell more than an inch down her thighs. And the leather bra she was wearing amounted to little more than a pair of thin straps to keep the nipples covered. Tossing the coat over to him, she laughed lightly. "Are you still enjoying the view?"

Carefully setting his beer down, he walked over to her, lightly running his fingers across her flat stomach as he walked around her. Gently stroking her ass, he bent down and pressed his lips to the side of her neck, relishing the shudder of pleasure that his actions caused. "I supposed we could discuss that."

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur entered the hidden cells inside Pinehearst with a barely concealed glee. Only Maury knew about the cells or who they contained. _And I doubt very much he'll be around much longer. Things are moving along well enough that he may soon outlive his usefulness._

He stood outside the partition, staring at his prisoner for several minutes before he spoke. "It all fell apart on you, didn't it? You thought your plan infallible, and that I was unnecessary. Now you see how foolish that thought was." When the prisoner didn't react, he laughed. "I think I'll keep you alive a while longer. Long enough, certainly, to see your world crumble around you, and to see all your dreams destroyed." Shrugging, he turned to go. "I'll be back to see you later. I know you'll be desperate for news."

When he had gone, Angela Petrelli raised her head and stared at the door. Tears marked her normally emotionless face.

****************

**Costa Verde, California**

Claire came running down the stairs when she heard her mother scream, and nearly collided with her brother, Lyle. Without saying a word, they both sprinted for the door.

They found Sandra collapsed in a heap on the floor, racked with sobs and clutching a note in one hand. As Lyle tried to talk to her, to comfort her in some way, Claire carefully took the note and read it to herself.

**Noah Bennet was murdered yesterday by a rogue Company agent during an attack on the Company. He died heroically, sacrificing himself so many, myself included, could escape the attack. The Company has fallen. Noah's last wish was for his family to know what had happened. Signed: A friend.**

Claire balled the note into a ball and threw it away. All emotion, save one, had been ripped out of her by the monster that had attacked her and stolen her ability. She was unable to mourn her adoptive father. She was unable to comfort her adoptive mother.

The same monster who had destroyed her, ripped out her emotions and her feeling at the same time he brutally took her ability, had claimed a new victim.

Unable to feel anything save an overwhelming rage at what had happened to her and her family, Claire swore to herself that she would not rest until Sylar had paid for his crimes against her family.

_Mom will never understand. She'll try, harder than ever, to keep me home where it's 'safe.'_ She snorted at the irony in that thought. _As if anyplace is safe so long as that creature is allowed to run free._ Running into her room, she hurriedly packed a bag with several changes of clothing. After several minutes' thought, she took a stuffed bear that had long been her favorite- a cheerleader teddy bear Noah had brought her shortly before she discovered he was not just a paper salesman.

When Lyle had finally calmed Sandra down enough to accept a cup of coffee, he led her to the sofa and went looking for his sister. Instead he found a note on her bed.

**Lyle,**

**Sylar did this. I know it, even if nobody can be bothered to tell us.** **Don't look for me, don't ask about me. I'm going to find him and kill him. I don't know, or care, how long it'll take. But he can't be allowed to get away with what he's put this family through.**

**Take care of Mom, because even if I wanted to stay, I wouldn't be able to.**

**Claire**

Swearing under his breath, he slammed her door shut and tried to figure out how he was going to tell his mother that they had lost Noah and Claire in the same day.

****************

**Chennai, India**

Sanjog slept. His dreams, as always of late, were disturbed by the growing darkness.

Tonight, as he wandered the dreamscape that was his birthright, he saw the flashes of the growing storm. Spread before him, leading the storm, was a giant chessboard. And the spider he had seen before was larger and more menacing then before.

The opening moves had already begun. The Shield Maiden, Marita de Contego-Kemp, lay imprisoned. The Dreamer, Angela Petrelli, was also imprisoned, though the location seemed different. The Man in the Horn-Rimmed Glasses, Noah Bennet, had fallen. Gabriel Gray had chosen his path, and Sanjog glimpsed that it would lead both to peace and to absolute despair.

The Flying Man, Nathan Petrelli, was on his flight to power. The Empath, Peter Petrelli, was unaware of what had transpired but was seeking answers. The Oncoming Storm, Sparrow Redhouse, had twined her fate with that of The Time Lord, Hiro Nakamura. He was now learning what he would need to learn in order to survive.

The players were in place, and, although he was not gifted with precognition, the dreamscape showed the connecting lines that would determine the immediate fate of each.

He sent out a cry to the dreamers her could find. _It begins._

****************

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Angela Petrelli awoke from a dead sleep, screaming in terror.

****************

**New York City, New York**

Peter Petrelli awoke from a dead sleep, screaming in terror.

****************

**New York City, New York**

Angel Callaghan awoke from a dead sleep, screaming in terror.


	16. Chapter 15: March, 2008

_**March, 2008  
**_

_**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Arthur Petrelli lay on his bed in the early morning and wandered through the facilities. His physical presence was not required, and may even have been detrimental. _People always behave when they know the boss is watching. I need to see how things really stand._

The facilities that had just opened where the old Primatech buildings had been in Odessa,Texas and Hartsdale, New York were exactly as he had hoped. Nothing was hidden. _Just scientists and other common people working for a goal they don't know and couldn't possibly comprehend._ He was justifiably proud of those facilities. State of the art research and development labs combined with antiseptic hospital facilities for when the serum went into mass development. _Even more, those facilities serve to blind the public._

Next, his mental gaze went to those hidden warehouses whose contents were known to only a bare handful of his employees. _Only those I can trust to be willing to do absolutely anything I ask. Some of my Black Coats are still too honest for this work._ Those facilities house hundreds of unwilling prisoners. Some, such as those liberated from Primatech and had rejected his fair offer of employment, were locked in nightmares. They were only awakened when the time came to test them. Others, such as Barbara Zimmerman, _and Tracy would have a heart attack if she knew the truth about her sister, and about what I know_, were simply locked away where they couldn't escape. As with the other prisoners, these were regularly tested as well. _Brutal as the tests are, they are necessary for the greater good. I must know exactly what causes some abilities to manifest if I am to reach my goals._

Once verifying that all was as it should be in the furthest reaches of his unseen empire, he turned his mental eyes to the facility he was in now. The absence of Sylar left a void he knew he had to fill as soon as possible. _If only I could find a killer as capable as him._

Narrowing his focus, he found Doug and Val in her rooms. As he watched them simultaneously climax, he swore to himself. _I have to find a way to break them apart. If not mentally and emotionally, at least physically. I have plans for both of them, and those plans will be in danger so long as they have anyone they can rely on other than me._

When he turned to look at the rest of his people, the solution to that problem and another immediately came to him.

* * *

_**Costa Verde, California**_

Sandra had remained in her room almost constantly for the past weeks, ever since the double blow of Noah's death and Claire's abandonment of the family. Every time she thought she had plumbed the depths of her grief, new pain was uncovered.

Now she lay in bed, comfortably numb, holding a picture of her husband against her breast and wishing it had all been a nightmare. Suddenly, she heard raised voices from the first floor of the house she had, until recently, shared with the only man she ever thought she loved.

Opening the door, Lyle's voice flooded the room. "…don't care who the hell you are! You're not bugging my mom!"

A voice she recognized from a distant past she had, at the time, thought she knew came next. "Get out of the way, y' bloody idiot! We don't have time to play these damn games." She almost smiled at the recognizably cynical British accent. "You can either let us talk with her, or you can sit her wanking off until Pinehearst decides to come get you."

Another voice she recognized, this time a woman, interrupted. "Calm down, Claude. You don't have to terrorize the kid, for God's sake."

Before anyone else could speak, Sandra stepped out onto the landing and looked down. Lyle was doing his best to look intimidating while Claude and Meredith stood just inside the door. Clearing her throat, she flashed a sad smile. "Claude, Meredith, it's been a while."

Lyle spun around in shock. "Mom? You okay?"

Sandra kept a firm grip on the railing as she headed down the stairs. "Define okay, Lyle." When she reached them, she grimaced. "I must look horrible."

Claude shrugged, but Meredith smiled. "Moderately horrible. It's been rough, I'm sure. And I wish we weren't here to make it worse."

"Why are you here? Especially since you two are supposed to hate each other now?"

Lyle blinked. "You know these people?"

For the first time in a long while, she laughed. "In a manner of speaking, Lyle." Nodding at them in turn, she explained. "Meredith is your sister's biological mother. And Claude was your father's sales partner." Fixing him with a suddenly clear and cold gaze, she lost the smile. "But we both know better now, don't we?"

Claude cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Ancient history, Sandy."

Meredith stepped forward. "We're here because the three of you are about to be more popular than you want to be." Stopping, she looked around in confusion. "Where's Claire?"

Lyle snorted in disgust. Sandra held back tears. "We don't know. She left."

Meredith stared in shock. "What the hell? Where'd she go?"

Lyle swore. "She decided to hunt Sylar."

* * *

_**Primatech Research Ruins, San Diego, California  
**_

Claire stood near the ruins of the Primatech facility. She was no longer the golden-haired girl who had fought so hard against her discovery that she could regenerate.

Her hair had been the first thing to go. Once as blond as Barbie, and hanging half-way down her back, it was now a dark brunette and barely covered her ears. Gone were the comfortable, although stylish, jeans and loose fitting shirts. She now wore a black halter top and tight leather pants. The thigh-high motorcycle boots, dark sunglasses and the helmet now carried in her left hand helped complete the image of a worldly young woman completely foreign to the cheerleader she had been.

She shuddered slightly and ran her hand across her bare midriff as she remembered the cost.

She had spent the first several days, after running away from home, tracking down the thriving black market in Costa Verde. It had taken time and patience, and a violence that had been completely alien to her, to find the people she was looking for.

Dealers had tried to hook her, or to turn her into a mule. Pimps had tried to claim her. She had been beaten, cut, shot and murdered.

But she had finally found who she was looking for. By the time the month was out, using the money to hide and to begin her search for revenge, she had sold her kidney, not to mention her lungs, liver, and everything else they would buy, multiple times.

Looking around to be sure she wasn't being watched, Claire, now known as Jessie Berg, hung the helmet from the handlebars of her BMW K 1200 S and walked over to the ruins.

Putting on her gloves, she began shifting it as best she could, looking for anything that would help her find Sylar.

* * *

_**Los Angeles, California**_

Tru stood from the computer for a brief stretch, and glanced around the room in irritation. Ray was chasing down one of the few leads they'd managed to find, and Audrey was arguing with her superior about something. Right now she was alone.

Swearing under her breath, she closed her eyes to confirm the coast was clear and teleported into the break room. After pouring a cup of coffee, she teleported back to the computer room and got back to work.

Several minutes later Audrey slammed in to the room, swearing sulfurously. Tru turned toward her and quirked an eyebrow. "I take they're still off limits?"

Audrey dropped into an empty chair and did her best to mimic the precise tone of her superior. "Pinehearst is a respectable company currently tied not only to our government but also to one of the most popular and respected Senators in the history of the United States. We will not open an investigation with no more than vague suspicions and gut instinct."

Tru scratched at her left shoulder. "Yeah well, Hitler was a really popular guy too."

Ignoring that, Audrey kept going. "And then the bitch had the balls to remind me of the Primatech fiasco with Parkman."

Ray had walked in while she was saying that last. "I take it they don't care that you were right?"

Audrey glanced up as he and Tru shared a brief kiss. "Of course not. Bureaucrats don't give a fuck about truth. All they care is that I embarrassed them."

Tru looked over at the computer. "So we keep our investigation quiet. We know Pinehearst is dirty, and can almost tie them to the deaths and disappearances, but we wait until it's conclusive before we take it back to your bosses."

Audrey shook her head angrily. For the first time, Tru noticed the woman's gun and badge were both missing. "Not exactly. You two go back to PD. I look for a new job." Seeing the look on their faces, she shrugged. "The investigation will still be going on. I sure as hell am not dropping this until I bring them down. I'm just going to have to do it as a civilian."

Ray and Tru shared a quick look that said everything. Ray grinned. "Not alone. We'll go back to our jobs, but we're also going to help you bring them down."

_**

* * *

Costa Verde, California**_

Knox didn't waste time knocking. After kicking in the door, he led Tina inside the Bennet's home. Slipping on his gas mask, he nodded. "Do it."

Tina grinned and briefly closed her eyes. She opened them again as waves of green gas wafted from her body.

After ten minutes had passed, she leaned against the wall to support her trembling body. "That's it, Knox. The house is flooded and I haven't got enough for a fucking fart."

Without acknowledging her comment, Knox began to case the house. Several minutes later he returned. Taking one look at his face, Tina swore. "Let me guess. Nobody's here."

Running his finger over the nearby railing, he showed her the dust. "Not for several fucking days."

Pulling out her phone, she winced. "The boss is gonna be pissed."

_**

* * *

New York City, New York**_

"Let's run through it again. What'd you see?"

Ishmael sighed in frustration. He understood what was driving Lucius, but that didn't make his constant demand to retread the information any easier to deal with.

Angel laid a hand on his arm, a wordless reminder to control his anger, and leaned back in the couch. "As I have said, Lucius, I saw very little; and what I did see was filtered through another's eyes."

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. "There is a vast storm approaching. The first strikes of lightning can even now be seen. Lives will be lost. Dreams will be destroyed. Allegiances will shift. The Father, the Great Thief and Destroyer, has returned and sits, as a spider in its web, in the center of the storm. His pieces move willingly, unaware that they are but pawns in a gambit they cannot see.

"Yet hope remains. Players are even now entering the game that he is unaware of. Pieces he has moved as pawns grow wary of the one they have called master, concerned that his goals are other than they appear."

Opening her eyes, she adjusted the loose blouse over her swollen stomach. "At the end of this I heard a single voice, that of a frightened teenager. It said, 'Be Prepared'."

Lucius swore and took a long drink from his glass. "Nothing about Marita?"

Angel sighed, expressing her honest sorrow in that single sound. "I'm sorry, my friend."

"Son of a BITCH!" Both Angel and Ishmael recoiled slightly. Lucius' face, his entire body, had grown painfully bright almost instantly. They could feel the heat of the concentrated light from across the room. "Jesus! The last time some asshole had the balls to kidnap my wife, he was fucking DEAD after this much time! And now this Arthur Petrelli character can do whatever the FUCK he wants with her, and I can't do Jack-shit about it!" Glaring out the open window, he raised his hand and leveled it at a distant gull.

The light that had gathered around him coalesced into a liquid stream encasing his arm, growing more intense as it did so. With a silent roar, the light exploded from his clenched fist in a solid beam. It tore through the air with the fury of lightning. When it impacted the gull, the distant bird ceased to exit. It had been instantly pulverized and burned to a fine ash that fell lazily through the sky.

Abruptly the beam cut off, and shadows fell once again. As silence filled the room, he stared out the window. "I will find her. And, when I do, he had best pray God shows him mercy. Because I won't."

_**

* * *

Sullivan Brothers Carnival**_

Joseph looked over his family, gathered for their evening meal. Scattered among the old faces, such as the beautiful Lydia and Edgar, whose temper was every bit as quick as his ability, were several new ones.

Noah Bennet, once the implacable hunter of many who now called the Carnival home, had made contact several months ago. He wanted Joseph to use the Carnival, _to use the family_, he thought with a twinge of bitterness, to hide those the American government was preparing to hunt.

Although he had created this group to give a home to those society had cast out, he had been forced to consider the cost carefully. He had weighed the need against the secret he carried, the secret his mother had sworn him to on her death bead. _The secret about Samuel_.

The time had now come to do what he had long feared. It was time to break that promise and reveal the truth to his brother.

Approaching the gathering with some trepidation, he rested his hand on Samuel's shoulder. Nodding toward an opening between trailers, he indicated they needed to talk.

As he led his brother away, he noticed the newest additions to their family, still unsure of their place and standing a little apart. _Did you suspect, Noah? When you and I made the arrangements, and I handed you the compass, did you suspect this final irony? That your wife and son would one day need the very services you were requesting?_

_**

* * *

Los Angeles, California**_

The dealer looked at the older man warily. "Why me?"

The contact smiled quickly. "Because I have the supply, but no distribution. Your organization has the distribution, but no supply. We have the potential, if you want in, to turn a very nice profit."

The dealer considered it briefly. "How do I know this shit does what you say?"

The other man opened the case of vials and selected one. Attaching the syringe, he tapped out the air bubbles. "I thought you'd ask that. This one's free. Use it on yourself or have someone in your group use it. Fuck, grab some stupid bastard off the street and use it on them for all I care."

The dealer stared across the table for a long minute. Finally he pulled a small case out of his pocket. After tying the tourniquet and cleaning the injection site, he took a last look across the table and stabbed the needle into the vein.

Several seconds passed in which nothing happened. Suddenly his body went rigid, as if suffering a massive electrical shock. After less than a second, his body relaxed and he slumped as though dead.

After several more seconds, he opened his eyes and straightened in his seat. He started to ask a question but winced in pain. Rubbing his right hand, he stopped and stared at it.

Sharp spikes, apparently of solid bone, had begun to grow. They emerged from between his knuckles, from several points around his wrist, and from under his fingernails. As they lengthened, they also grew wider. As the spikes came into contact with each other, they joined and grew together. After a long minute his hand had been entirely encased it what resembled nothing so much as a pike of solid bone.

The shorter man nodded. "As you can see, it works precisely as advertised. You will, naturally, need to learn to control it."

The dealer flashed a cold smile and, with a look of painful concentration, drew the bone back into his body. "Let's deal."

_**

* * *

Conference Room B, Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Senator Nathan Petrelli approached the podium, smiling at the reporter assembled in front of the stage.

He had received the call last night, and had immediately set this press conference in motion. Acting on Tracy's suggestion, he had arranged to stage it in the largest conference room in the Pinehearst complex.

"Good morning. I trust you have all been given your information packets, this morning?" Glancing around, he saw encouraging nods from the reporters. "Excellent."

Setting down his notes, he dropped the friendly smile. "Many among you have wondered about my silence since the Registration Act was passed into law. The truth is, I was waiting until I had something worth discussing before doing so.

"As you are aware, Pinehearst discovered, for the United States government, the test that allows us to determine whether or not a citizen has a special ability. As you are also aware, this test has been in use for the past several weeks."

Pausing, he glanced at his notes quickly. "As I mentioned a minute ago, there have been complaints that the government has been dragging its heals regarding the enforcement of this Act. Let me assure you that nothing could be further from the truth."

At the verbal signal, the doors on either side of the stage opened and three hundred armed, and fully armored, men and women marched in. They took their places on the stage.

Glancing at them as they stood around him, Nathan smiled quickly at the audience. "Impressive, aren't they? May I introduce you all to the enforcement arm of the Registration Act? They have been, although I admit it sounds rather melodramatic, The Hunters."

After the assembled reporters finished a subdued applause, he glanced back at his notes. "The Hunters have been in training since shortly after passage of the Registration Act. I held back on their reveal until this time for a very simple reason; although we had the legal authority to act, and we had the force necessary to enforce that legal right, we had nothing to do with those who violated the law." Clearing his throat, he pushed a button and glanced at the monitors that sprang to life. "That has now been rectified.

"What many of you do not know is that we have spent the time since the Act became law building a set of containment facilities for those Enhanced Humans who refuse to register, or who choose to attack either other Enhanced Humans or Normals. Those facilities were completed last night." Gesturing to the monitor, he pointed out three locations on the map that was displayed. "There have been three facilities built, although there are locations mapped out if this becomes more of a problem than anticipated. The completed facilities are in Kaltag, Alaska, Wellton, Arizona and Lincoln, Nebraska."

Turning to face the assembled reporters once again, he smiled. "Now that we have the containment facilities as well as the enforcement necessary, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. The Enhanced Humans now have exactly one week, that is 7 full days from right now, to register themselves. That registration can take place at any government building. At the end of that week, all unregistered Enhanced Humans will be arrested upon discovery, and taken to one of the three facilities I mentioned."

_**

* * *

Costa Verde, California**_

The man looked up and down the street furtively, as if afraid he would be seen. When he could see nobody, he slowly approached the house. His narrowed eyes focused on the door hanging off its hinges. _Someone's been here since it was abandoned. But who?_

He didn't have time to run through everyone it could have been. _Were they looking for me? Or for who used to live here? _Just narrowing the list down to one list or the other would take hours. By that time the sun would have risen. _If I'm going to do this, I need to get in there before the sun rises._

He crossed through the broken threshold, staring in disgust at the disarray in which the house had been left. _But by the occupants, or by the searchers?_

Before he could take another step, the bundle he was carrying in his right arm began to scream furiously. Setting it down on the counter, he smiled as he stripped the blanket away. "It's all right, Noah. We're home now."

Letting the infant scream in its carrier, Gabriel Gray turned on the sink and pulled the formula and bottle out of the sack he had brought in as well. For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile was on his face.

_**

* * *

Briefing Room A, Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Arthur Petrelli stared at the monitor in amusement. _Nathan's playing his part brilliantly._ Of course, pawns always performed their best when unaware they were anything but the master of the game in question.

The door opened. "You wanted to see me, boss?"

Arthur looked at the stunning woman who had entered the room. Valerie Drake now stood just opposite the table from him, dressed in her typical black halter top and miniskirt. "I did. You are aware, I assume, that the Senator has just taken the next step in this Registration Act of his?"

She couldn't conceal the disgust. "We were watching his conference. We saw everything."

_We as in you and the other Black Coats, young Valerie? Or we as in you and Douglas? Never mind. It hardly matters anymore._ He crushed the urge to smirk. _She would never understand._ "Yes. I thought you might have. As you are aware, Pinehearst has already begun collecting some Enhanced Humans. Some of those we are going to keep. They are either too dangerous, or else too valuable, to be allowed to disappear in a general population of law breakers."

She nodded. "All right. What's this have to do with me?"

Arthur allowed the smile. "I'm afraid I'll have to take you off the streets for a while. I need someone I can thoroughly rely on to aid in separating the wheat from the chaff, as it were. You will be publicly assigned to record keeping, and will be part of the team that takes down the names and abilities of those who these Hunters arrest." Leaning forward, he fixed her with a penetrating stare. "It will fall on you to ensure that they kill as few as possible."

Swallowing through a sudden knot in her throat, _and what the hell is __**that**__ about, Val?,_ she nodded. "I understand."

Leaning back, he smiled again. "Good. Also, I will be giving you a list of names. Those are the Enhanced Humans we have in our various holding facilities that I am willing to lose to the Containment Centers set up by Senator Petrelli. You will oversee their transfer."

"All right. Anything else, Sir?"

Shaking his head, he waited for her to leave. _Now to wait for the inevitable result of Maury's little mission._

_**

* * *

Los Angeles, California**_

The man stared at his hands in horror. He had emptied his savings account in order to buy the serum. Now it was taking an unexpected toll.

His hands were glowing. Not just glowing, but that peculiar glow that could only mean radiation. He recognized it. He'd worked with it for years. Although he was now a third grade science teacher, he had worked with nuclear reactors during his time in the Navy.

_How could this be happening? What's causing it? How do I __**stop**__ it?_ The questions were burning through him nearly as rapidly as the new power was. And they were no easier to stop.

He was alone in the break room. _Thank God for small favors._

He had just enough time to hear the door open before he could suddenly control it no longer.

_**

* * *

WNKW19 Broadcast**_

The news anchor looked unusually somber as he faced the camera. "In disturbing breaking news, a grade school in Los Angeles essentially ceased to exist, only hours ago, when the community was rocked by a massive nuclear explosion.

"It is not known what caused the explosion. What is known is there were a hundred teachers, nearly two dozen janitors, the principal and vice-principal, as well as approximately three thousand students in the building at the time of the detonation. All are presumed dead."

_**

* * *

Briefing Room A, Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Arthur watched the newscast for the third time, barely restraining his laughter. _Better than I could have hoped._ Glancing at the door, he waited for the man he had called minutes earlier. _I regret those deaths, especially those of the children, but some sacrifice is needed for the greater good._

Doug walked through the door only seconds later. "You called me?"

"I did. Have you seen the news about that school in LA?"

Doug winced. "I did. Tragic. But what's it got to do with us?"

Arthur faked a hesitancy. "I'm afraid it has everything to do with us. It appears that some of our serum, most especially the less successful test batches, has been appearing on the black market. Whether it's actually our serum, or if someone just found some old, improperly disposed of, notes and manufactured their own, it's hard to tell. What isn't hard to tell is the results." Nodding at the television, which he had paused as it displayed the smoking, nuclear ruin that had once been a thriving grammar school, he frowned. "That was the result of one of the less stable versions of the serum."

Doug narrowed his eyes at the screen. "And what is it I'm supposed to be doing about it?" As always, his accent thickened under stress and emotion. _And it's an overpowering rage I'm feeling at the moment._

Arthur leaned back in his chair. "I want you to use your abilities, the one we gave you as well as the ones you had mastered long before we encountered you, and find the serum, the dealer, and the source. I want the pipeline shut down."

"Understood." As he left the room, he was too focused on the job at hand, and on his anger, to catch the unpleasant smile that flashed across his boss's face.


	17. Chapter 16: April, 2008

_**April**_

**Tokyo, Japan**

Sparrow stood on the roof. Comfortably nude once again, she reveled in the fury of the thunderstorm.

She had not allowed herself this pleasure since being transported to the city. Although not shy, neither was she an exhibitionist. The city was too heavily populated for her commune with nature to normally go unnoticed.

This morning, however, brought such a torrential downpour that visibility was counted in inches. And so, without a word to anyone, she had dressed in a thin robe and practically run onto the roof.

Now she gloried in the storm. While the rain pounded against her bronze flesh, her spirit as an eagle. With her eyes closed and her spirit free, she let the fury of the moment wash all the stress and worry from within.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open. _I'm not alone_. Pulling her drenched hair away from her face, she looked around.

On the other side of the roof, she could make out a vague shape. As lightning flashed, she caught glimpses of black hair and a shimmering katana blade held in the ready grip of a trained warrior. She recognized the face and the sword. Tying the thin robe around her waist, she walked across the roof to meet him. "Hiro? It's been almost two months."

Hiro, nearly unrecognizable with scars on his newly muscular arms and a warrior's cast to his face, stood in front of her dressed entirely in black. His hair, now well past shoulder-length, was tied back from his face with a strip of leather. His eyes scanned the area quickly. Sheathing his weapon, he smiled. "Far longer than that for me, Sparrow. Closer to five years." Holding up a hand to stop her next question, he added, "We'll talk when Ando's awake. Until then, I need to meditate."

Without another word he headed inside. Sparrow stared after him for several minutes before letting the robe pool around her feet as she united once again with the storm. The questions and explanations could wait.

**New York City, New York**

Angel opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling in silence. Turning her head, she looked at the door separating the master bedroom from the nursery, where Felix was asleep, totally unaware of the cares and worries that plagued his parents. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered the details of her vision, of the world her son would most likely come of age to witness.

This dream had been more detailed, more vivid, and more specific than any before it. Parts of what she had seen terrified her.

Reaching a decision, she woke her husband. "We need to call Lucius and have him come over. There are decisions that must be made."

**Los Angeles, California**

The squad room was packed. Every officer, Detective and trainee was present. The captain cleared his throat twice in his typical unspoken demand for silence, then walked up front. "All right, people. Unless you've been living under a very large rock, you know what's going on. The Registration Ac is law, and that means every citizen gets tested. That includes us. So here's the deal- over the next couple days, you all get tested. And the results damn well better be what I expect. I've seen the list, and nobody here's on it. That for damned sure best mean all you people are normal. If someone gets a positive on the test, your ass is mine! And then the Feds can lock you up in one of their fancy holding facilities. Got it?" Glaring around the room, he didn't wait for a response. "Now get your asses back to work!"

At their desks, Tru and Ray exchanged a quick look and headed outside. Once they were clear, Ray swore. "If that test is at all accurate, we're fucked. You know that, right?"

Tru nodded and looked around. "Were you planning on registering?"

He stared at her. "You're joking, right? No way in hell am I taking part in this witch hunt."

Putting a calming hand on his arm, she glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "You know what this means?"

When he stared at her blankly, she flashed a tight smile. "It means we grab our shit, pack what we need or could use, and get the hell out of here."

Ray was about to argue, but a look at her expression stopped him. "All right. When do we go, and where the hell are we supposed to hide?"

Grimacing, she looked around. "I don't know where, but we leave tonight. After work." Swearing suddenly, she pulled out her phone. "We need to talk to Audrey. Let her know what's going on."

**Tokyo, Japan**

They sat around the small table, staring at each other in silence. When it had gron to the point where both Ando and Sparrow began fidgeting uncomfortably, Hiro spoke.

"Five years. I traveled through time, learning from the masters. In Korea, I studied under Kim Yushin. In ancient Japan, I learned from Kamiizuma Nobutsuna and Miyamoto Musashi. From them, and others, I learned the art of the sword.

"I traveled to America and learned the art and the science of detective work from Elliot Ness." Pausing briefly, he took a drink of his saki. "I dueled in thirteenth century Japan. I fought Germany in both world wars. My sword was in the service of Caesar Augustus and Emperor Godaigo. I was in Hiroshima when the bomb fell, and was also in Nagasaki when the bomb fell there. Both times, I barely teleported away in time to save my life.

"I have caused death a hundred times, and have seen it a hundred more. And now I have returned home."

Looking at Sparrow, he smiled faintly. "You were told I needed to set aside the child and become the warrior. The journey has been difficult, it has been filled with danger and pain, but I have done so."

Ando looked stunned. For a minute he was unable to speak. Finally, he said the first thing that crossed his mind. "Your English is much better."

Hiro smiled at his friend. "Six months surrounded by the English and the Americans as we battled Hitler and freed those in Auschwitz."

Sparrow flashed a mysterious grin. _Yes, the boy is gone. In his place is a true warrior, fit, perhaps, to walk beside the best my people ever had._ Aloud, she asked, "So, what's the plan?"

**New York City, New York**

Lucius sipped his cold beer in irritation. "Why the emergency meeting?"

Angel sighed. Holding Ishmael's hand, she took a drink of water. "I had a dream, a vision, shortly before we called you. I saw much; more than ever before."

Leaning forward, he stared at her with an almost rabid hope burning in his eyes. "About Marita?"

Glancing at her husband, she knew he was thinking the same thing. _To tell him the truth will be cruel. But is it any better to conceal it?_ Reaching a difficult decision, she squeezed Ishmael's hand and drew a calming breath. "Marita, the Shield Maiden, is lost to us. She is lost even to herself. She remembers nothing of her life, and the road to find her, and for her to find herself, is long and dangerous."

Lucius' face contorted in a combination of rage and grief. Struggling for words, he jumped and began to pace. "Where is she?"

Sorrow filling her voice, Angel dashed the tears from her eyes. "She is under the control, the domination, of the Father, the Great Thief and Destroyer." Pausing briefly, she collected herself and continued in a quiet voice, "She now calls him Master."

Lucius stopped suddenly, as if Angel had slapped him in the face. His eyes, when he turned to face her, were frightening to behold. They were eyes lost in a horrifying despair, seemingly set aflame with a terrifying rage. His voice came as a barely audible, glacially cool, whisper. "How do I find her? How do I free her?"

Angel spoke quietly, timidly, worried that the wrong word would set him off. "We hide. We work from concealment. We train and we hunt from the shadows. When the time is right, we strike." Standing, she approached him slowly and rested one hand on his shoulder in a comforting grip. "For now she must remain lost. She has her own path through the darkness. To rush in too soon is to condemn her to that path for the remainder of her life. However, when our journeys intersect at the proper time, it is your light that will help her discover herself once again."

He sank to his knees with an anguished scream, the sound that of an animal pushed beyond its endurance. The sound brought tears to the eyes of Angel and Ishmael, for it was the wail of a soul shattered by pain and loss and utter despair.

**Pinehearst Cells, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur stood outside the cell and examined his handiwork with an evil smile. It had been a year since he had found this treasure. It had been five months since she had been injected and manifested the ability he knew would be so immensely useful to his plans.

Five months of testing, of both physical and mental tortures that even the most diabolical despot would have shuddered to consider, had created this masterpiece. The once vibrantly defiant woman stared back at him through eyes which revealed a shattered spirit. The woman, the creature, who now stared at him had once fought him with every fiber of her being. But now she rushed to follow his merest whim with a fervor that caused him to laugh.

The hair had once been a luxurious auburn, and had flowed down her back as wild and untamed as her spirit had been. It was now cropped brutally short, and was dyed a flat black. The previously unblemished skin was now cruelly marked. A web of scars crossed her back, stomach, arms and legs. Her brown eyes peered coldly through a mask of tattoos. The ink coloring more than half her face blended into that which had been added to her breasts and arms.

She stood to face him, unashamed, seemingly unaware, of her nudity, fully aware he had come to her for a purpose. Warily, she continued to watch him, moist tongue darting out to lick lips inked black.

Finally, he spoke. "What is your name?"

"Velia."

With a cold grin, he asked the next question. "What is your purpose?"

Bowing her head briefly, she gave the appropriate answer. "To obey your commands."

"And if those commands differ from the ones you receive anywhere else, no matter the apparent level of authority?"

"Obey your commands as inconspicuously as possible."

"And if obeying a command calls for you to endure, or could result in you enduring, pain?"

Her eyes came alive at the prospect, and a bleak smile, a smile which would have disturbed nearly anyone other than him, played across her lips. "So be it."

He stared at her in silence for several minutes. Finally, with no warning, he dove into her mind. After finding not the slightest trace of resistance, he withdrew and let a proprietary grin flash across his face.

Opening the door, he handed her the gaments he had chosen for her new life. "You may get dressed. After you have done so you may eat. Once done, return here."

She nodded as she buckled the leather vest into place, neatly concealing the birthmark in the shape of a wolf's head that was still visible beneath her right breast.

**New York City, New York**

Lucius sat on the couch, tears still falling down his face. Ishmael, a far more sensitive man than he frequently appeared, was having trouble concealing his own sorrow; sorrow both for what he knew Marita must be suffering and for the private hell Angel's words had condemned their friend to.

Angel held her silence for another minute. Finally, she began to speak once again. "There was more to what I saw, my friend." When he raised his head to look at her through bloodshot eyes- eyes which were filled with almost unendurable agony- she continued. "The four of us must make contact with the Brother of Power, Peter Petrelli. We will be joined by Builder, who you know. If we are to remain free, and if we are ever to rescue the Shield Maiden, Peter Petrelli must be persuaded to make contact with the Invisible Man, with Pele and with the Lord of Time, who has returned from his quest and is now a warrior capable of that which will be demanded by events yet to come.

"When contact is made with the Invisible Man and Pele, they must be told that the Earth Mover has killed the Secret Keeper, his brother, and now controls those who seek refuge for his own ends.

"When all is in place, the hidden war will begin."

Lucius stared at her blankly for several minutes, struggling to process her words through a mind nearly shattered by her earlier statements. Finally he gave up. "That doesn't make any sense, Angel. Who are these people, and what exactly are we supposed to do? And how the fuck is this going to help my wife?"

Ishmael, instinctively understanding that Lucius was incapable of processing much more than a step at a time, leaned forward. "For right now, we need to disappear. Angel can pack for our family, and she'll call Dustin and tell him what he needs to do. I'll go with you and help you pack. Then we contact Peter Petrelli and enlist his aid."

**Los Angeles, California**

Tru closed her suitcase with an exasperated sigh. "Any ideas about where the hell we're going to go?"

Ray shook his had as he also closed his. "Not a single fucking clue. Your abilities give us a slight advantage, but we still need out of the country."

She swore silently. "I was afraid of that. I'm not positive I can either teleport or shadow-hop the two of us that far. And I'm willing to bet we'll never get airline tickets unless we've been tested."

Rubbing his forehead, he closed his eyes briefly. "Point." Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he frowned in thought. "I'm not sure exactly how to go about this. I've never really had to think about how to get away with breaking the law.'

"Tell me about it." Crossing to him, she dropped into his lap and pushed him down. With a slight grin, she straddled him on her knees and took his hands. Placing them on her breasts, she sighed as he began to respond. Unbuckling his belt, she leaned down for a kiss as her hand slid behind his waistband. "Can we make a decision later?"

**Peter Petrelli's Apartment, New York City, New York**

He had received the call several hours ago. _And I'm still not sure why I said, 'yes.'_ The woman had told him she, her husband and baby, as well as a friend needed to see him. And that another man would meet them there.

_She said they needed me to take them somewhere Nathan's damned law wouldn't affect them. Which means they have abilities. Which means I'm about to have several new ones. Great. Just fucking great. Damn it, Nathan!_ It seemed he spent most of his life cursing his big brother lately.

There was a knock on his door. Sighing, he put down the water and went to open it. He was confronted by one of the most stunningly beautiful women he had ever seen. She was carrying a small child, maybe a year old, with skin somewhere between her dark tone and the darker, nearly ebony, tone of the man beside her. One glance at their hands confirmed his suspicion that they were married.

The other man in the group, whose skin seemed almost blindingly white in comparison, disturbed Peter at a profound level. _It's his eyes._ _Whatever's going on, this guy's going through hell._

Standing aside, he let them in. After they sat their bags down and had taken the seats he'd cleared, he leaned against the wall.

The woman made the introductions, then gave him a piercing look. "We need your help, and you need ours."

He raised an eyebrow. "I do?"

Angel smiled. "Yes." Standing, she handed Felix to her husband and crossed the floor. Peter found himself unable to break the eye contact. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she opened her mind to allow him to see why she had come.

Several seconds later, she released him. "You now know everything, Peter Petrelli. You know why we need your help, and you know why you need ours."

He blinked slowly, sinking to the floor in confusion. "That vision…that future…is that certain?"

She nodded. "Unless you aid us, and allow us to aid you. Unless moves can be made in this game to counter those made by the one who runs Pinehearst."

He shook his head. "Even if I believed all that, and I'm not sure I do, you want me to enlist Claude and some woman named Meredith, and you want us all to meet over in Japan at Hiro's place? At least I know Claude, not that it'll help much. He's not exactly a joiner. But Meredith? The most I can say is that I vaguely, _very_ vaguely, remember hearing her name once."

Lucius' lips curled in a disgusted sneer. "Meaning you won't even fucking try?"

Peter stared at him in surprise. He had been so quiet, he had almost forgotten the other man was in the room. Before he could reply another knock at his door interrupted them.

Opening the door, he was faced with two people instead of the one he had expected to see. The young man could have been Hitler's wet dream- from his perfectly Aryan features to the blond hair and blue eyes. The woman, on the other hand, was a beautiful example of classic Greek features.

The young man smiled apologetically as he led her inside. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. Hey, Lucius. Sorry for not warning you guys I'd have company, but I sort of didn't know until the last minute."

Laughing lightly, the woman gave him a playful push. "Typical man. Thinking I'd let him get away after working so hard to catch him." The light trace of an accent gave her words an exotic sound.

Stepping forward, she extended her hand to Peter's other visitors. "He has told me much about you three. I'm Calypso Arelous." At their expressions, she shrugged and smiled tolerantly. "My parents were both extremely interested in mythology. They saddled me with the name. Since I'm more or less used to it, I saw no reason to change it. But I'd prefer it if you would call me Cally."

Dustin snaked an arm around her waist. "We've been together about a year now. Got together after Felix was born. I tried to give her the 'family emergency' line, Dad, but she said she was coming whether I liked it or not." With an embarrassed shrug, he looked down at the carpet.

Angel, who had returned to her seat and been holding Felix, set the sleeping child in his carrier and crossed the room. Placing her hands on Calypso's face, she stared into the younger woman's eyes. With a smile, she stepped back. "There's more going on here than you realize, Dustin." With a nod at the woman, she said, "I think it's time to reveal your secret."

With a panicked look, she stared at Angel in silence. Finally, she seemed to reach a decision. 'It's easier if I show you." Glancing at Dustin, she almost begged, "Forgive me?"

Before he could speak, her face contorted. Plainly visible through her clothing, the movements were matched by her entire body. Within a minute, the petite brunette had been replaced by a middle-aged, slightly overweight, blond man.

With an oddly feminine shrug, the man said, "There's more. I can physically shapeshift into anyone I want. I can even change only parts of myself if I want, instead of going for the complete shift.""

Several seconds later, a mirror image of Angel stood where the man had been. "There's a side effect I only recently discovered though. If I touch another EH, I can completely become them. Not simply physically identical, but I can mimc their ability for as long as I keep their form.

Within another minute Calypso had reappeared exactly as she had been. Throwing an even more apologetic glance at her boyfriend, she leaned close to him and whispered, "That's why I didn't believe the 'family emergency' story you used on everybody. I became you, Dustin, just out of curiosity, shortly before we started dating. I found out what you could do."

Before he could say anything, Lucius snarled, "That's great! Just fucking wonderful! Everyone but me gets to bring someone with them. Meanwhile, Petrelli gets to do whatever the fu---"

"LUCIUS!" Ishmael leapt to his feet.

Peter narrowed his eyes, stood, and stared hard at Lucius. On a sudden impulse, he dove into Lucius' mind. _It's faster this way. And I need to know what---_ He fell against the wall. "You're married. And…you think…but that's…my dad? You think Dad's involved? He's dead, for God's sake. Fuck it all, I BURIED HIM!"

"Yeah, well, next time you bury someone, Petrelli, do the rest of the world a favor and make damn sure they stay fucking put! Maybe that way, they won't be fucking up anyone else's life!" Lucius was on his feet, rage and bitterness temporarily eliminating all traces of the grief that had been etched into his face.

As Ishmael restrained Lucius, forcing him to take a seat, Angel approached Peter. "I did not plan on making this revelation until you were with those I mentioned earlier. But it is the truth, Peter. Your father is alive." Standing over him, she gazed intently into his eyes. She spoke loudly inside her head, knowing that his telepathy would overhear her. _You have the ability to tell truth from lies, Peter! Use it. Read the truth of what I say._ Aloud, she said, "The game that is in play is of his design and for his purpose."

She felt him in her mind, finding nothing but truth in what she said. "And his purpose, as it has ever been, is entirely evil."

**Tokyo, Japan**

Ando and Hiro were in a secluded area of one of the gardens in the Yamagato campus. They had been fighting for most of an hour, and had reached the point where they were nearly shouting.

Hiro stood a short distance away from his friend, his hands locked into fists. "You cannot do this, Ando! Pinehearst is part of the problem. What they offer is a lie! One injection, no strings attached, and you are suddenly the equal of, or superior to, everyone else? Think about it, Ando!"

Ando reacted as if he had been slapped. "You've finally admitted it, Hiro! You don't WANT me to be your equal! You want a sidekick, and nothing more! I don't fucking think so!" Before Hiro could react, Ando spat at his feet, turned and stalked away. In seconds, he was gone.

Hiro stared at where his friend had disappeared, as if he could change what had happened through sheer will power. The tension of the argument tore through him, giving him a massive headache and making him nauseous.

"He's gone, then?"

The soft voice made him jump in surprise, one hand reaching for the hilt of the ever present katana. A minute later, he relaxed. "Sparrow? I didn't hear you."

Laughing, she touched his arm lightly. "Not surprised. You and Ando were loud enough that a troop of stormtroopers could have marched in here unheard." She watched as he turned to look into the darkness, as if hoping to see Ando returning. "He'll be back."

Shaking his head, feeling for the ponytail that had been the victim of a modern haircut only a day earlier, he whispered, "I don't think so. He's gone. Even if he does return, something has broken between us." _Something precious. Something I took for granted._

Sparrow's hand found his and gave a gentle squeeze. "He'll be back. And you'll be nearly inseperable again." Eyes darting into the darkness, she found herself in private agreement with him. _But he doesn't need to hear echoes of what he views as a defeat._

**Deveaux Apartment, New York City, New York**

Claude checked the pigeon coops again, setting out food for the birds. "There's only so much we can do without alerting Pinehearst. And I'm not really interested in painting a great bleeding target on myself."

Meredith drank her beer, watching him as he latched the large mesh cages. "It's either help people escape, or watch as they help the government make Primatech look like a bunch of babysitters, Claude."

Turning to face her, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Her lips twisted in bitterness. "Have you studied history at all? I'm not talking the sanitized crap they shove down your throat in school; the stuff written by the winners to make themselves into the angels that defeated the demons. I mean the real stuff."

"Why?"

"Some of what Hitler and his group did to the people in those camps was funded by America. Oh, the average citizen didn't know it, but some American interests, including some members of the government, gave money and expertise to Hitler. You want to bet those interests aren't still represented/ You want to wager that expediency doesn't win out again?" Taking another sip of the beer that had suddenly lost its appeal, she grimaced. "And I don't trust Pinehearst to be playing with honest cards. More people had disappeared before the Act became law than have turned up in the camps. And rumors indicate the number of those who have vanished is still larger than those turning up."

As if to emphasize the point, a man appeared beside her and grabbed her arm. Before Claude could blink, they had vanished. He barely had time to grab his staff when he felt the same man grab his arm.

He had just enough time to gasp in shock before he disappeared in the same way.


	18. Chapter 17: April to June, 2008

_**April**_

**Tokyo, Japan**

"Oi! What the HELL'S going on?" Claude staggered against the wall as Peter Petrelli released him.

Shrugging apologetically, Peter stepped away. "Sorry, Claude. It was easier this way."

Claude stared around the small room in suspicion. Meredith leaned against the wall, a just-lit cigarette hanging from her mouth. Seated around the table were Hiro Nakamura, two women he didn't recognize, and a small group that made him back away slightly. "I know you lot. Tried to bloody kill me a couple years back." Glancing at Peter, he repeated, "What the bloody hell's going on?"

Lucius stared at him coldly. "Shut the hell up." Looking around the room, he said, "Can we get this little conference going? Some of you may have all the time in the world, but I want my wife back. So, how are we bringing Pinehearst down?

After making the introduction, Angel stood and told the newcomers what she had shown Peter earlier. At Arthur's name, Claude winced. "Damn it. That git's still sucking wind?"

At the curious glances, he swore. "Bennet got the order to kill me from Thompson. What pretty much nobody but me knew was Thompson got the order from Arthur."

"Why'd Dad want you dead?"

Claude shrugged. "Because he had me on a bag and tag so he could steal a specific ability. Then he was gonna kill the poor, dumb bastard. I let the collar slip."

Lucius swore. "You're not making me feel any better here, damn it! The woman I love is in this fucker's tender care, and you're saying he liked to kill? How the hell do I get her back?" The anger in his voice did nothing to conceal the worry that was bordering on panic.

Before anyone could react, Claude stepped forward and brought his staff whirling around, crashing it against the side of Lucius' head.

Lucius grabbed the side of his head with one hand, swearing viciously. Leaping to his feet, his fist glowing, he glared at Claude. "What the FUCK was that about?"

Nodding at Peter, Claude narrowed his eyes. "It turned the trick with the toy poodle over there. Figured it was worth a bloody shot with you." Grabbing the staff in both hands, he goaded him further. "If you want to wallow in this pity party, let me know so I can knock your ass unconscious." He waited a second. When Lucius didn't attack, he used the end of the staff to shove him backwards. "Otherwise, SIT DOWN!"

Once Lucius was seated, Meredith took a long drag and asked the on everybody's mind. "What do we do?"

Cally lifted her hand cautiously. "What're the odds that this'll stay confined to America?"

Claude snorted, but the others looked thoughtful. Ishmael spoke first. "If we just had to worry about the government, I'd say it was sixty/forty and pick 'em. But with Arthur Petrelli behind the scenes and pulling the strings?" Pausing, he scratched absently at his arm. Looking over at Claude, he shrugged. "You know this side of him best. What's your opinion?"

Claude laughed. "I've already seen his people at work in merry old London. With Petrelli running the show, even, maybe _especially_, if nobody but him realizes what's happening? It'll go world wide. There are nations that have hated each other for centuries, and the Palestinians and Israelis would love nothing more than a chance to completely obliterate the other."

Lucius frowned in thought. "Son of a BITCH! So _that's_ his plan."

Hiro smiled coldly. "Of course. Simple, but brilliant."

Peter stared at them in blank incomprehension. "Umm…_what_ is simple but brilliant?"

Lucius began to pace. "I don't understand it all. How he's going to make parts of it work are beyond me. But what I can make out is terrifyingly beautiful." Looking at the assembled faces, all but Hiro giving him the same confused look, he swore. "He's just started, almost single handedly, a new arms race." When they continued to give him the same blank look, he rubbed his forehead.

"All right, here's how it works. America did it first. Other nations are going to follow, either because they like America and want to remain partners or because they hate and distrust America. And then you have groups like Israel and Palestine. _They're_ gonna do it in order to finally settle the situation between them once and for all."

Hiro nodded. "And Arthur Petrelli has the monopoly on the serum. Meaning every nation will have to come to him. He'll make money hand over fist selling to all sides."

Ishmael leaned forward in comprehension. "That could be bad, but I don't see where that could lead to the disaster Angel saw. There has to be more to it."

Dustin partially closed his eyes in concentration. "There is more. What Hiro and Lucius just described will lead to another cold war; only this one will be on a global scale." Suddenly his eyes snapped open. "Shit! During the cold war, what was the one thing people on both sides were terrified of? Someone would screw up and nukes would launch. But…what if someone screwed up _for_ one of the sides?"

Meredith whistled in appreciation. "You're saying, after all sides have started their own Registration Act and created their own Enhanced Army, Petrelli makes sure the disaster they fear happens, with blame squarely placed on the target country's enemy?"

"Bloody hell!" Claude's exclamation was almost a whisper. "It'll be a war like nobody's ever seen. It'll make World War 2 look like a pissing contest."

"How do we stop it?" Cally looked worried.

Peter rested his head in one hand. "We fight."

**Los Angeles, California**

Doug moved through the shadows with a silence born from years of experience. He bypassed the firefighters and police, who were still combing through the ruins of the school. They didn't know what they were looking for. _Come to think of it, I don't either._

He continued moving through the ruins, hoping to find something, _**any**__thing_, that would lead him to the cause of the explosion. And from there to whoever leaked the serum.

After an hour of painstaking sifting through the rubble, he reached the source of the destruction. The area had been blasted clean. The floor was charred and cracked. The ceiling was nearly non-existent. The walls had been decimated.

His eyes widened under his helmet as he saw the only traces that anything had ever been in the room. Using the subvocal commands, long ago programmed into the helmet, he magnified the specific section of floor.

The soles of two shoes had been melted into the shattered concrete. From their position, whoever had been there appeared to have been seated. _Possibly getting to their feet at the time?_

He bent down and took the other object carefully in his gloved hand. _Odd. Who'd have though a driver's license would survive this kind of explosion?_

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur stared at the man in front of him. "You did everything I asked, Maury?"

"I did. The dealer will talk, but only after resisting long enough to make any investigator believe he had broken. And I planted all the information you wanted."

Arthur smiled coldly. "So all trails will lead Doug to our old friend. However it ends, Doug will certainly be completely loyal to Pinehearst by the end of his task." Waving his hand slightly, he smiled when a heavily tattooed woman stepped into view.

Rising, he extended his hand. "I want to thank you for a job well done, Maury." Maury, seemingly automatically, took the offered hand.

With a cold gleam in his eyes, Arthur stripped him of his ability. With a gasp, Maury struggled to break the grip. When he was released, he stared at his boss with a look of horrified betrayal. "Why?"

Arthur frowned. "I should have thought it obvious, even to one as painfully and unforgivably stupid as you." Walking to the door, he said, "After all, Maury, a corpse has no need of an ability."

Maury stared in shock, unable to process what had just happened. "But I did everything you asked!"

Opening the door, Arthur glanced back. 'I need intelligence in my people, Maury, not simple loyalty. You are a weak coward, as unimaginative as you are unintelligent. You would have betrayed me eventually. Consider this preventative maintenance." As the door closed, he smiled viciously. "Have fun, Velia."

After the door closed with the finality of an execution chamber, Maury turned his attention back to the woman.

He had already noted the heavy tattooing. The markings had turned what once might have been an exotic beauty into a dreadful mask. She wore a leather halter top, tight enough that it seemed incapable of restraining the breasts that were as heavily marked as the face.

His eyes automatically followed the markings over a flat stomach and a slim waist until they vanished into pants that hung almost indecently low on the woman's hips. An idle thought crossed his mind. _She must shave. Those are too low for me not to see hair._ The pants were made of a material that appeared to be leather, but the way they accentuated her femininity while providing ease of movement indicated they were made of something else.

He jerked his eyes back up when she made a sudden move. Her hand had darted inside her coat and withdrawn a thin length of chain. He backed away as she sank into a crouch and began to whirl the chain almost faster than the eye could see. Her right hand darted out twice.

Pain blossomed from both knees. As he fell to the ground, landing heavily on his back, he saw the chain being hidden in her coat. A sharp blade, _how the hell did I miss that_, on one end of it glistened with his blood. _My blood?_ Feeling the red liquid slowly soaking through his pants from the wounds behind both knees, he went slightly grey. _My blood._

Grinning, she reached into the tops of her thigh high boots and pulled out twin blades. With a laugh, she sprinted across the short distance and leapt into a summersault. Landing astride him, she used the impetus of the running leap to shove the blades through both shoulders, pinning him to the floor.

The agony was more than he could stand. He began to scream.

"Shut up!" For the first time she spoke. If it hadn't been so harsh, her voice might have once been called melodious.

He couldn't stop screaming. The agony of the attack overwhelmed him.

"I said, shut UP!" As her voice came out in a shriek, she slammed her elbow into his jaw. The bone shattered.

He still couldn't stop screaming. The pain as he moved newly broken bone to do so simply added to the volume.

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" She drove the heel of her palm into his throat, destroying his larynx.

He kept screaming, but it emerged now as nothing more than a whisper.

Breathing deeply, she smiled. "That's better." She pulled out a new knife and began to trace random designs with it. Each stoke left behind sliced cloth and bloodied flesh. Some of the cuts were deeper than others. And she periodically broke the monotonous mutilation with sudden stabs that drove the knife hilt deep into him.

By the end of an hour, she was splattered with his blood, and what was on the floor was only vaguely recognizable as a man, let alone any specific one.

With a final thrust, she drove the blade into his heart. She bent over his body, listening at his throat as the last gurgling breath was exhaled.

Her head jerked up as the lock on the door clicked. When it opened, she sank into a submissive crouch. The overwhelming sense of power she could sense told her exactly who was waiting on the other side of that opening.

"Excellent work, Velia." Arthur entered the room, avoiding the blood drenched mass that had once been Maury Parkman. Eyeing her appreciatively, he kept his satisfaction from his voice. "You will not bathe tonight. Go to the chamber and strip. I will have the Artist call on you."

She shuddered in anticipation. It was difficult to tell if it was fear or pleasure. _Either will work_, Arthur thought as she stood and left the room.

A visit by the man Arthur had dubbed the Artist meant pain. She would soon have more scars and more ink on her body.

When she was gone, Arthur began to laugh. _To think, she was originally no more than an experiment- a way to find if the serum was working properly. But she has shown me how to fulfill my ultimate goals._

_Those fools at Primatech, Daniel, Charles, Angela and the rest, didn't understand. Yes, the world needs rebuilt. But it must be completely destroyed first. They lacked the guts to do what was necessary.

* * *

_

**_May_**

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur Petrelli stared at the monitor in amusement. They had been keeping track of the woman since she had shown up at the ruins in Los Angeles. She had since been seen casing the newly rebuilt facilities in Odessa and, now, in Hartsdale.

He knew who she was, of course, both the identity she was using and the one she had been born with. Knowing that told him what she was after. Suspecting what her next step would be, he had ordered the necessary records destroyed, and had records that would give her the information he wanted her to have replace them.

He'd ordered Tina and Daphne to the Hartsdale facility to await his order. When the time came, they would bring her to him.

Now he watched as she broke into the seemingly abandoned building, and began her search. _Revenge. It's such a common emotion, and so easy to turn to my own purposes. _It took her several cautious hours to locate the artistically hidden, but not too hidden, information.

He sent out a mental command. _Bring her in._

Tina immediately used her ability to render the woman unconscious. Arthur began to laugh. _It will be nice to work with family once more._

Then he gave orders to prepare suitable quarters for Claire Bennet.

**Tokyo, Japan**

Hsiu-Mei Park had delayed following Mrs. Petrelli's final order to make contact with Hiro Nakamura. She had immersed herself in the city in order to learn the language and customs. She had carefully chosen daylight to make her approach, reasoning that any watchers who may be around would be less suspicious of someone entering what amounted to a museum during normal hours.

Entering the Yamagato Fellowship campus, she looked around quickly. _Nobody's paying attention._ She breathed a short sigh of relief. That meant Pinehearst hadn't stationed anyone inside. _Probably_, she though briefly. _It's possible whoever they have is simply better at the game than I am._

She spotted Hiro entering the room with a young woman whoa appeared to be Native American, possibly Navajo, and another woman who looked nearly joined at the hip with a blond man.

Approaching him, she stood silently, waiting for him to speak to her. Looking at her curiously, he waved the other three ahead of him. "Can I help you, Miss?"

Drawing a breath, she glanced around to make sure they weren't being overheard. "Angela Petrelli sent me with a message."

The name of the former head of Primatech perked his interest. "And it is?"

"There is a storm coming."

He stared at her in confusion. "That's all she said?"

"Unfortunately, yes. She terminated my employment with the Company and told me to give you the message, offering my services. I barely escaped the country before Primatech fell."

Hiro looked at her thoughtfully for several minutes. "Come with me. There are some people you need to meet."

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

The woman knelt in front of him. He waited for several minutes before speaking. "Are you ready for work that takes you out of these familiar halls, Velia?"

Without lifting her head, she said, "As you command."

He stared at her for several more minutes. "Very well. You may rise."

With a fluid, nearly feline, grace, she rose to her feet. He kept his eyes cold and calculating as they traveled across her nude body. There were new scars. There were new wounds that had not yet healed, and new layers of tattoos.

The Artist did not use the virtually painless needle and ink so many parlors used. He was a man who believed in tradition, so he insisted on using sharpened wood spikes to force the ink into the skin. The pain involved was, in many cases, equal to the pain from the many wounds he left with knife, whip and heated metal.

The man was called the Artist not due to his skill with the ink but due to the inspired brilliance with which he inflicted pain.

Arthur's eyes continued their passionless survey of the woman in front of him. _Other men, lesser men, would be distracted by her full breasts and the raw sensuality she exudes._ He laughed quietly. _They would lose themselves in the passion her body promises. The fools! There is only one passion that can satisfy. Only one mistress needed to make life worth living. Power!_

Halting his internal reverie, he motioned to a nearby table. "You will find clothing, money and a folder there. The folder contains all you need."

As she turned for the table, he reached out and grabbed her arm so tightly it brought from her a hiss of pain. Yanking her toward him, into his lap, he bent close to her ear. "I want her alive, Velia. No mistakes."

Releasing her arm, he stood, dumping her to the floor, and left the room.

**WNKW19 Broadcast**

The anchor focused on the camera with a somber expression. "It has been several months since we last received a tape from the organization calling itself the Human League. We at WNKW19 had hoped the group had disbanded in the wake of the Registration Act, believing their particular views had been proven false in the resulting arrests of those Enhanced Humans who had refused to register.

"Unfortunately, we received a new tape late yesterday afternoon. After much consideration, the decision was made to air the footage. I must warn our audience about the graphic nature of the tape. We ask all viewers with children to have them leave the room. It would also be advisable for our more sensitive viewers to find something else to do in another room, or to turn off their television sets for the next ten minutes or so."

After a pause of less than a minute, the logo of the Human League filled the screen. It was shortly replaced by a warehouse room. The logo was now on a banner spread across the wall behind four men and a woman dressed entirely in black and wearing ski masks.

They were fully armed, holding automatic pistols in their ands and with automatic rifles slung across their shoulders. They stood behind a frightened man and woman who had been handcuffed to their chairs. The blindfolds and gags did nothing to conceal the tears that could be seen streaming down their faces, or the muffled sobs that could be clearly heard in the silence.

The same man who had been the voice of the tapes spoke. "I would like to introduce all true humans to the enemy once again." Pointing to the man with his pistol, he continued. "This abomination was known as Roderick Bower. Until last month, he was a teacher at a grammar school that recently made the news by being leveled in an explosion. What the people investigating that explosion have not learned is that he was the cause and the source."

Turning his weapon to point at the woman, he spoke again. "This traitor, his wife, was Christine. She worked as a cashier at a grocery store."

With disgust not even the digital mask they had placed on his voice could disguise, he continued. "She was trying to talk him into hiding until he had full control of his ability. They were preparing to do just that when we found them."

Stepping back beside the masked woman, he nodded at two of the others. They stepped forward and pressed their pistols to the back of the married couple's heads. "They have been found guilty of crimes against humanity. Let their deaths serve as warning. Those who aid and hide these creatures, which the government has labeled Enhanced Humans, are as guilty of their crimes as the non-humans themselves."

He had barely stopped speaking when the room was shattered by the two weapons.

The camera lingered on the blood and gore for several seconds before the scene was replaced by the logo of the Human League once again. Then the tape faded to black.

**Los Angeles, California**

"Son of a BITCH!" Doug stared at the screen in fury. His only lead had just been murdered on national television.

_How in the __**hell**__ did they know? I'd bet my ass nobody else saw that fucking license._

He rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache starting to form. _Well…maybe not my __**only**__ lead. _

Getting out of the chair, he paced the rented hotel room for several minutes before sitting down at the table. _Time to think, Douglas._ _What do you know?_

_ Roderick used the serum._

_ That serum didn't come from Pinehearst._

_ He had to have gotten it illegally somehow._

_ That means the local black market._

He temporarily pushed aside the question of exactly how a black market dealer had gotten any of the serum. Pinehearst guarded the lab where it was kept as carefully as the government guarded its gold. _Better, actually,_ he thought with a sudden laugh. _After all, I've actually been in Fort Knox. Nobody gets in that fucking lab._

It was time to find out if any of his old contacts could tell him anything.

**Summersville, West Virginia**

The woman now known as Velia lay concealed across the street from the abandoned factory. She could sense the presence of an ability inside the building. She had lain there all day. Her master's final command made her determined to be absolutely certain about who that ability belonged to.

Finally, she saw the door open. A young woman emerged, carefully looking in all directions.

The scope Velia looked through was connected to a rifle with a silencer attached. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

The soporific dart launched from the barrel with the same force as a bullet. It slammed into Debbie's stomach less than a second later.

Within a minute, Velia had crossed the street, carrying the disassembled rifle in her trench coat. Grabbing the unconscious woman by the hair, she dragged her inside.

Then she pulled out her satellite phone. It was time to go home.

* * *

_**June**_

**Moscow, Idaho**

The day had begun as all days begin. The night had reluctantly given way to daylight. Kids were playing outside, enjoying the summer break from school. Parents were working or preparing for work. The lucky few were celebrating their days off by mowing their lawns.

That all stopped at noon.

The first warning came when Lisa, a ten year old, had her arm broken when the ground shook and a tree she had been playing in fell.

It was the only warning the town was to receive. The lucky ones, if you can call anyone in this town on this day lucky, died as the quiet town of Moscow shook and was shattered over the next three hours.

The unlucky ones suffocated when the earth split open like an angry god and swallowed the town.


	19. Chapter 18: June, 2008

_**June**_

**Hunter Headquarters, Washington, DC**

The entire nation had been shaken by the news. Moscow, Idaho, a quiet town that rarely made the news for anything other than local color or the occasional fire, had been violently removed from the map.

Suspicions had begun to grow regarding the cause of the brutal earthquake almost immediately. Those suspicions became certainty when it was confirmed by multiple experts that the town lacked even the weakest of fault lines.

Overnight, the headquarters for the group that had adopted the name The Hunters was filled. Every state, nearly every city, in America was represented. For every person physically in the building, there were at least five phone calls, emails or faxes from other citizens wanting to join.

Nathan and Tracy had been in the building since the town had been destroyed. Nathan sat at the table and stared at the map. Rubbing his forehead to combat an exhausted migraine, he gratefully took the hot cup of coffee Tracy offered.

Sitting across from him, she brushed her long blond hair over her shoulders. "Any progress?"

"Not a damn thing. I'm honestly hoping whoever did it died with the town."

Nodding, she sipped her own coffee. "I spoke with Pinehearst. They suspect both incidents were a result of black market serum."

He slammed his cup on the table. "Just what I fucking needed! How the hell did it get out?"

"Apparently one of the employees, a," she checked her notes for the name, "Maury Parkman, decided to make a little extra money. He appears to have been killed, a bit brutally it seems, when he tried to double deal someone he was selling to."

Nathan drank in silence for a minute. _God, what I wouldn't give for a bottle of Jack right now! _"I know that name. Wasn't he one of the people in that picture of the alleged founding members of Primatech?"

"I think so."

"Christ! We need people on that."

Tracy shrugged. "Why bother? Pinehearst has their Security Division working on it already."

Nathan stared at her in shock for several minutes. "Because I'm going to have to make a statement about this. Like it or not, I'm the public face not only for Pinehearst, but also for the EH's. I'm not going out there and tell the world that the people who fucked up and let the serum out are the ones in charge of recovering it."

She sipped at her drink, letting her calculating eyes focus on him over the rim. "So don't tell them. Just say you have people looking into it." Her blue-grey eyes briefly lost focus as she considered something, carefully concealing a smile. "Besides, I think I know a way to stop them from being to nosy."

He arched an eyebrow. "Really?" He didn't waste time trying to conceal the doubt in his voice. "How do you plan on doing that?"

"At the end of the press conference, announce that you're getting married."

He choked on a large gulp of still-hot coffee. When he got his breath back, he blinked rapidly in disbelief. "Seriously? You think a random wedding announcement's going to turn that trick?"

She laughed, allowing her eyes to remain completely serious. "It won't be random, Nathan. You'll be marrying me."

He narrowed his eyes in calculating amazement. "Just like that, huh? No cards? No fancy proposal? No romance or pledges of undying devotion? Just another political card to be played?"

"Romance and all that crap's nice enough, I guess, but it's for kids. I like you and you like me. That's a reasonable enough basis for a marriage. And, between the two of us, there's so much untapped political power I'm surprised D.C.'s still around. As far as the media's concerned we are _the_ It Couple. Do you have any idea how many invitations, from Grand Opening's to red carpet events, we've _turned down_? I don't think the ones we've actually attended account for more than five percent of the invites. Trust me. When you announce our upcoming wedding, it'll be leading news in every outlet in the country." She smiled again. "You're the politician. I let you run that side of the game. I'm the PR expert. Let me run this side of it." _Besides, with this election coming up you'll be Vice President soon. And being the woman, and the subtle controlling hand, behind the man one step from the main seat is the kind of power most women would sell their soul simply to __**dream**__ about. And for __**that**__, I'd willingly marry my worst enemy._

He considered it quickly. "All right. I'll have my speech writer whip something out." He turned the idea around, looking at it from every angle he could think of. "It would probably play out best if we let people think I was the one who actually proposed. And it would definitely play out best if we tell people this all went down before Moscow, Idaho was wiped out. Will you be okay with that?"

She flashed him a smile. "Of course."

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Claire stared at the television in silence. The networks were showing the world the recovery attempt in Moscow, Idaho. They had also shown stock footage of the school that was now a ruin. She sat on the edge of her bed. "That could have been New York."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

She looked at him with haunted eyes. "A couple years ago, Peter, my uncle, nearly blew up in Kirby Plaza. If Nathan hadn't stopped him…" She turned to face the television again.

He nodded in understanding. "I knew of the plan." When she turned to stare at him in horror, he added a deliberate note of bitterness to his voice. "Why do you think Daniel and Angela tried to kill me? I was doing everything I could to stop it."

He leaned forward. "They didn't understand. Yes, our kind will be revealed eventually. With our numbers growing practically daily, it was inevitable. But their way?" He shook his head in disbelief. "It would have caused fear and panic that would have made what we're seeing now pale in comparison. Fear is never the answer." _Unless, of course, you can direct it as well as cause it._ _But that takes a finesse the others never understood and could never have managed. It's why I tried to take over the plan._

Claire stared at the room she had been furnished. "You never really explained why you had your people bring me here." It stopped just short of being an accusation.

Arthur shrugged. "There were a couple reasons. The first was that you were in danger."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

'Sylar was hunting. My people barely beat him to you."

She glared at him. "What the fuck did you interfere for? I **wanted** him to find me! I'm going to kill him!"

Arthur pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Tina? Could you meet me in Claire's room please?" Putting the phone away, he looked back at Claire. "She was there. She can tell you what happened better than I can."

Shortly thereafter, Tina appeared in the door. "What'd you need, boss?"

Waving her to a nearby chair, he waited for her to be seated. "Tell her about the night you and Daphne brought her in."

She looked at both of them for a minute. "Oh. She wants to know why we had to knock her out instead of giving her your offer?" When he nodded, she leaned forward, focused entirely on Claire. "See, it's like this. We went in to talk. We were supposed to give you Pinehearst's card and tell you the boss wanted to meet you. Offer you a trip here to kind of look things over.

"But you weren't alone. Daph twigged to it before I did. Sylar was there, and he was hunting. We had to make a quick decision, because he was gonna find us before he found you. So I gassed the place. Didn't really have a choice if we wanted out of there with our skin." She shrugged with an infectious laugh. "Don't know about you, but I'm kind of fond of mine.

"Anyway, we figured you were both out for the count, but that you'd also wake up at about the same time. So we grabbed you and hightailed it. Figured you're be pissed, but you'd also be alive."

Arthur nodded. "That brings me to my second reason for bringing you here. I wanted to offer you a position with Pinehearst."

Claire rubbed the back of her neck. "Doing what?"

Arthur smiled. "Think of us as the unofficial police force for Enhanced Humans. The Hunters look nice, and are reasonably efficient, but they're also limited. And, one day soon, they'll get in real trouble because of it. And they're not equipped to bring in someone like Sylar- someone with a vast array of abilities, and no compunction about using them. We are."

Claire looked thoughtful. "What about the Registration Act? If you and your people are Registered, doesn't it mean you're compromised if someone hacks into the list?"

Arthur shrugged. _She's good_. _That's part of why none of my people are registered. _"I've made arrangements. My people, at least those with abilities, aren't on the main list. Senator Petrelli knows who they are and he's arranged for us to be left alone."

"So you made a deal with your son to let Pinehearst exist above the law?"

He gaped at her for a second before covering it with a laugh. "I don't remember telling you Nathan was my son."

"You didn't have to. I have eyes. I imagine you looked pretty much just like Nathan does at his age. And don't dodge the question."

He smiled again. "I wasn't aware you asked one. But, if that accusation was intended to be a question, I'll be happy to answer. Nathan isn't even aware I'm alive. The time has not yet come for him to learn that truth. I'm afraid Angela will have told him some ugly stories about me, and I have far too much to do to take the time combating those beliefs." He paused, apparently weighing how much to tell her. "Pinehearst does not operate above, below, behind, or in any way outside of the law. We are registered. But the law doesn't require our names and abilities to be listed where any fool with a computer can find it."

She thought it over. "You know Nathan's my bio-dad?"

Arthur nodded. 'Angela was the one who persuaded him to have nothing to do with you. She feared you would interfere with her plans."

Claire laughed mirthlessly. "That sounds about right. Anyway, Nathan's the only one who knows what everyone here can do?"

"The only one."

She frowned in thought. "All right, I'll join up."

Arthur had to work to conceal a predatory smile. _Excellent. With her in my grasp, I can allow the Artist far more latitude in his testing. And I will have a hold over my son, should that become necessary._ Instead, he stood and helped her to her feet. "In that case, I'll escort you to the training center. How well, and in what areas, you do will help me decide which assignments you are best suited for."

**New York City, New York**

He had shattered the mirrors months ago, almost the instant he had moved back in after fleeing Pinehearst. It was bad enough knowing what he in his arrogance, in his pride, had done to himself. He didn't need mirrors to remind him.

_And it's worse having to live with what I did to others in the rush of discovery, in my desperation for a cure._

These days he lived in near total darkness. The lights remained off, and the windows had been painted over. The only light came from a television, a computer and the scientific equipment he couldn't bring himself to destroy.

He rolled up the sleeve of the hooded robe he had started wearing. The ichor had long ago stopped oozing from his skin. It came now only when he willed it. But the skin he had been born with, that had marked his heritage as surely as his features and accent, had completely disappeared. Instead, he was now coated in a thick, scaly carapace that had rendered his body nearly invulnerable to any assault.

His hounds, though remaining humanoid with five digits, including opposable thumbs, now more closely resembled claws. Shaking the sleeve so it covered hand and arm, he leapt to the ground from the perch near the ceiling where he had been sleeping.

"Professor Suresh?"

Darting into the darkest shadows, almost faster than the eye could follow, Mohinder Suresh swiveled his heard toward the sound. His eyes, long accustomed to the darkness he now lived in, focused on his visitor.

"Professor Suresh? I need to talk to you."

Mohinder considered remaining hidden, but decided against it. "Why are you here, Peter?" Even his voice had changed. Although it still bore traces of the accent that defined his nation of origin, it was a much harsher, raspier, voice than he had ever managed before.

Peter faced the sound. Using an aspect of Lucius' ability to allow himself to see in the near blackness, he suppressed a shudder when he saw what little of Mohinder was exposed. "We need to talk."

"Why?"

Peter drew a steadying breath. "I know you worked for Pinehearst. I also know you left. I need everything you can tell me about them."

Mohinder narrowed his eyes, almost as if trying to read Peter's mind. "What do you know about them?"

"Not enough. I know my father, Arthur, runs it. And I know he has a deeper plan behind what's been seen so far. Something dark."

Mohinder laughed. "And he doesn't care if hundreds, thousands, maybe millions, die. I should know. I've helped kill them." The last was nearly whispered in a tone of bitter self-loathing. _They weren't people. They were test subjects. Numbers. _He started to ramble. "Maybe one out of a hundred lived through the initial trials. Most of those who did became monsters. They disappeared. I never asked where. He brought a new formula down. I synthesized it. Thousands died. Nobody lived. Then he brought Claire. She was unconscious. He took something from her and added it to the formula, a catalyst. It worked. Every test subject lived. All gained abilities. No more monsters. I don't know where they went when they left my lab. I didn't ask. I didn't care."

Peter interrupted. "He had Claire?"

Mohinder slowly blinked, focusing back on Peter, unaware he had been speaking aloud. "Yes. But he took her back home. He was in a hurry that night. Afraid." He raised his head. "I can smell fear now. I can smell pain and lust, betrayal and love. I ran because the smell rising from the test subjects caused me to see what I had become." Stepping into the dim light, he dropped the robe and nearly screamed, "Look at me, Peter Petrelli! LOOK!"

Lowering his voice, he saw the momentary horror in Peter's eyes. "As horrid, as monstrous as you now view my body to be, Peter, I assure you I am a hundred, a thousand, times worse in spirit. I live only because I lack the courage to kill myself."

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

Monica Dawson stared at the small monitor. "You're sure about this?"

Micah sat at the computer half a mile away and shrugged. "Of course I am, Saint Joan. I'm looking through every security camera in there. The place is empty."

She swore quietly and looked around. "Didn't our source say the group was moving drugs through there?"

Micah scratched his arm. "Yeah."

"So am I the only one thinking we were set up?"

"Nope."

She started to move, blending in with the night. "Okay, so I'm getting my cute little black ass out of here. You close up shop and do the same."

Micah didn't wait for her to stop speaking before shutting everything down. As he was reaching for the laptop's cord, he realized he wasn't alone. _Shit_.

Knox grabbed him by the hair and slammed him into the desk. Micah hit the ground, unconscious and bleeding from a broken nose.

Knox grabbed his radio. "All right. We got the kid. You get the bitch."

Thompson clicked the radio once for confirmation. Lifting the sniper rifle into position, he waited. Seconds later, Monica crossed his sights and he pulled the trigger. He watched in satisfaction as she almost immediately collapsed to the ground.

**Tokyo, Japan**

Kimiko Nakamura, current CEO of Yamagato Enterprises, looked at the mirror. Without makeup or the business suit she typically wore, a surprisingly soft woman looked back at her. _I may not __**need**__ a man, but it would be nice to have someone who could see and appreciate this side of me. Someone to share my life, my worries, with. _Shaking her head to clear those thought, she stripped from the satin sleeping gown and headed into the shower that was already running.

A half hour later, she wrapped a towel around her thin body and left the bath room, staring at the suit she had laid out with distaste. _Just a few more minutes. A little longer as Nakamura Kimiko, the woman, before I have to be the most powerful woman in Japan. _Though the job she held had been her dream since childhood, and had been something she'd worked hard to achieve and be worthy of, it came with a cost.

In what was still a male dominated culture, she had to be the first in and last out of the office daily. This had been her first visit home in over a week. Eating bad food from the cafeteria. Sleeping in a tube that reminded her, with a curious mix of pleasure at the memory and revulsion at the thought, of those things the crew in one of her brother's favorite American movies slept in. _What was it called? Alien? And those tank things were cryo-somethings._

Suddenly, her door was kicked in. Spinning around, she gasped in shock. _A gaijin? In my rooms?_

She dropped into a combat stance, her reactions overriding her shock at having her privacy shattered in this manner. It took a second for her to realize the alarms weren't going off. _I'll speak with security later._ When the grossly tattooed man smiled, the markings on his face and arms beginning to glow, she realized it would probably be much later.

"I would say you could call me Michael, pretty, but I don't think it really matters. Do you?" His hand darted out to grab her by the throat. Lifting her off her feet, he ripped away the towel and roughly grasped a breast. "Maybe the boss'll let me play with you later." Throwing her against the wall hard enough to cause it to shudder and creak under the impact, he reached down and threw her unconscious body in a laundry bag.

**Yale University, New Haven, Connecticut**

Governor Robert Malden had arrived hours before the ceremony. It was easier and made less of an uproar that way. _And today, of all days, is definitely not about me._

He had wached as the graduates filed past. _The proud leaders of tomorrow,_ he thought sardonically. _I wonder if they realize how transitory and nebulous power really is? How hard you have to fight, how dirty you have to play, to gain and keep the power the very citizens who gave it to you expect you to never use? _He knew the answer even as he asked himself the questions. _They don't. Nobody does until they're in the game. And by then it's too late._

He listened politely to the speeches. _Always the same- I wonder if there's a blueprint, or if they truly believe what they're saying? _Again, he knew the answers. After all, hadn't he firmly believed his speech when he gave it all those years ago?

Each graduate was called by name to receive their diploma and any special awards they had earned. He applauded with the rest as each name was called.

"Elizabeth Rachel Malden," the speaker announced. The Governor applauded, no longer polite and distant. He was now the proud father that others in the audience had been earlier, as his only child stepped forward to shake hands and accept her diploma.

**Washington D.C.**

Nathan Petrelli stood at the front of the chapel, waiting for the ceremony to begin. _Peter and ma should be here._

But Angela had been missing for months. _Ever since some terrorist group, probably that Human League we can't get a handle on, destroyed Primatech. _And Peter had been refusing to talk to him ever since he had proposed the Registration Act.

None of his children were there either. _I couldn't find Heidi. I called, repeatedly, even made surprise trips to the house, Nobody was ever home._

_ And Claire's been so busy since she started working for Pinehearst that she doesn't have time for me. Can't say I'm surprised. I've never done much to foster any kind of real relationship there._

The orchestra interrupted his thoughts, and he turned his head to stare down the aisle.

Tracy appeared in the arched doorway, pausing just long enough for everyone in the church to see and admire her.

The dress was daringly cut, though not so daringly as to be called immodest, and clung in all the right places to prove that the slim, athletic person wearing it was definitely a woman. As she slowly walked down the aisle, accompanied by Senator Franklin Ashford who had agreed to give away the bride, the dress shimmered as it caught the lights, giving her the appearance of being encased in liquid ice.

Nathan smiled briefly. _Nice irony there. I wonder who she talked into that one?_

When she reached the altar, Nathan stepped forward to take her hand and turned to face the minister. Soon they would exchange vows and become husband and wife.

**London, England**

Abigail looked at the clock. It was long past time for Lee to have gotten home. Although he'd had to work late before, he'd always called to let her know. She tried to control her sense of unease, he dread that something was wrong, as she took her bath that evening, but not even the nearly dangerously hot water could ease the anxiety.

When she went back into the television room of the penthouse apartment, she stared at the couch in shock.

There was a picture on it she had never seen before. _Lee? Why does it look like he's a prisoner?_

Before she could move her hands were cruelly yanked behind her back, nearly breaking her arm. By the time she could even consider calling up her power, she was shoved head first into the wall.

As she fell to the ground, barely conscious, a tattooed and disfigured woman dressed in revealing leather crouched close to her and roughly shoved a small card into the waistband of her pajamas. "We'll be in touch, bitch. If you do what we say, your precious fuck toy won't be hurt. You may even get to see him again." The woman grabbed her by the hair and pulled her close so she could whisper in her ear. "Fuck up, tell anyone about this, and you get to watch him die slow."

The strange woman used the grip she had in Abigail's hair to slam her head into the wall, knocking her out.


	20. Chapter 19: June to July, 2008

_**June**_

**Yamagato Industries, Tokyo, Japan**

Hiro walked into the building slowly, his eye scanning for hidden dangers. He wore a business suit, chosen carefully to present a professional and non-threatening image to the people he was certain were watching. His hair had been freshly cut, removing the last visible trace of the years he had spent learning the art of war from the masters.

Sparrow, the exotic American who had succeeded in allowing him to catch her last month, walked beside him. She wore her long hair in a tight ponytail, and her typical jeans and blouse had been exchanged for a flattering, though uncomfortably restrictive, business skirt, blouse and jacket.

Hiro's eyes darted to his right. _Ando should be here. He never returned. I don't even know if he's alive._

Sparrow, sensing the direction her lover's thoughts had turned, brushed his arm and murmured, "Ando has chosen his path. We have chosen ours. And we have a mission to finish."

He nodded and adjusted his new glasses. Sparrow had assured him they were suitably businesslike while also being more modern than the style he had worn for years. _Actually, she used the word 'sexy.'_ Privately, he felt they looked a bit stupid, but it wasn't an argument worth having.

As soon as they entered the building, an older man came nearly running to meet them. After the traditional exchange of nods, the man spoke in brisk Japanese. "Hiro? You're back?"

Hiro also spoke in the same mode and language. "I need to see my sister."

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid that's not possible."

Hiro stared at him in silence for several minutes. "Why?"

The man, _Taro_, Hiro's mind supplied, frowned. "She's missing. We've kept it quiet, but she disappeared several days ago." He reached into his pocket and handed over a sealed envelope with Hiro's full name on it. "We found this on her desk."

Hiro read the letter then handed it to Sparrow. Without a word, he turned and left.

Following slightly behind him, Sparrow read the short note.

**Hiro,**

** By this time, you'll have learned your sister, Kimiko, has gone missing.**

** She is in our care and relatively unharmed.**

** Do what we say, when we say, and she will remain that way.**

Where the signature should have been was a small business card. In bold letters were stamped Pinehearst Research and a phone number.

**Washington, D.C.**

Nathan sat behind his desk, reading the reports that had begun pouring in about the arrests made under the Registration Act. _It's getting out of hand. At this rate the camps'll be full within the next two years._ He made a note to speak with the President about offering amnesty to those with the least dangerous abilities.

The expected knock on his door was almost immediately followed by the undeniable presence of his visitor. _No wonder he's loved by the public._

Rising to his feet, he smiled warmly and extended his hand. "Senator Ashford. A pleasure as always. Did we thank you for the wedding gift? A weekend at that hideaway was perfect."

Ashford smiled graciously and took the offered hand. "It was nothing."

"Please, have a seat." When Ashford had taken the offered chair, Nathan sat back down and leaned back. "All right. You asked for the meeting. What can I do for you?"

The Presidential candidate smiled and leaned forward, suddenly all business. "Actually, it's what I can do for you. I assume you've been keeping up with the polls?" When Nathan nodded, the Senator smiled. "Then you know I'm far enough ahead that, without a fairly large disaster on my part, and an equally large miracle on my opponent's, I will have our party's nomination."

Nathan nodded. "I've kept informed. And, I assume, there are no extremely filthy skeletons in any danger of coming out of your closet?"

"None." At Nathan's look, he laughed. "I'm not saying there's nothing there. We've all had to play a little dirty to get this far. But nothing that's dangerous." Leaning back, he shrugged. "I've had my people crunching the numbers. And there's only one that keeps coming out on top. Even the people on my staff who don't like you agree that you're practically the only choice. Although I've had my people sort of hinting around at it, I've come to officially ask you to be my Vice Presidential candidate."

Nathan steepled his fingers under his chin. "It wouldn't surprise you to know your opponent had approached me with the same offer?"

"Of course not. He may be unqualified, but he's not an idiot. A leak that you had agreed would be worth at least twenty points to him."

Nathan laughed. "He claimed thirty."

Ashford smiled tolerantly. "He would. What did you tell him?"

"I told him the truth. He's currently behind by nearly twice that among likely voters. I told him to come back if he could gain thirty points on you, and I'd consider it."

"You don't think he can do it."

Nathan flashed the practiced political grin. "No. He's a good man, and a brilliant Senator. He's accomplished great things for his district, and he's well liked by both sides. But he's not a leader, and the voters know it."

"So you'll take my offer?"

"Of course. It would be my honor, Senator. Or, should I say, Mister President."

**New York City, New York**

Governor Robert Malden took the speech from his daughter. "When I offered you any position you wanted, Elizabeth, I hardly suspected you to ask for something as unglamorous as speech writer."

She laughed. "I can do you more good here, Dad. You have an excellent staff, but your other writer was tired and didn't think she could handle the rest of this Senate race. Besides, this is what I'm most qualified for at the moment."

He shrugged and glanced through the speech. With a slow whistled, he stared at her. "Damn. If I'd known you were this good, I'd have dragooned you into helping for the last Governor election."

Elizabeth Malden flashed a genuine smile at the compliment. "You just go out there and let them know Mohammed Ali's in the ring, Dad. If the others know what's good for them, they'll just hand you that seat."

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Arthur had Valerie Drake summoned to his office. When she arrived, he put away the files he had been looking through, and gestured to a seat. "How go the transfers?"

Val glanced down at her notes quickly. _This place is run pretty much like Primatech was. So I know what he told me was supposed to be told to the people I was sending the transfers to. Which means, if I guessed right, I know what he wanted. God, I hope I was right._ "I had to make some assumptions, since you wanted me more or less incommunicado during most of this, but I think I got things arranged the way you wanted." _I __**hate**__ not being able to read this guy's face. Especially since I'm pretty sure he can read even the tiniest thought that enters my mind._ She attempted to hide, even from herself, how much that thought disturbed her.

"I've pretty much removed everyone we can't safely test to the camps. I managed to slip them into shipments heading to the camps so the Hunters wouldn't get suspicious about Pinehearst having caught them. I maybe have another two-hundred to sort."

Arthur studied her for several moments. _She's good, and she passed the test. She knew precisely what I wanted from her. She'll go far, if she doesn't get killed._ "What criteria are you using to decide who we keep?"

Val shrugged. "There are some abilities we have not discovered a way to contain, such as the one that destroyed that grade school in California- I actually found another one of that same ability among the prisoners."

Arthur leaned forward. "Excellent. Should you encounter another, let me know before transferring them out. I could use that ability, if I can persuade them to join us."

She made a quick note. _I'm not in trouble for going with this on my own? What the hell game is he playing?_ "Understood. Anyway, I've encountered a couple dozen that fall into that category. Since none of them appear to have been grabbed under your direct order, I had them transferred out. I kept a record of names, abilities and physical descriptions in case our situation changed or you decided one or more of them were of use." She handed over a piece of paper. "That's the incomplete list. I should have the complete list of transfers for you in another week."

He held the list almost reverently. _Geokinetic? Nuclear Generation? Self-Detonation? Invulnerability? Precognitive Painting? Astral Trapping? I need to find a way to liberate a couple of these people and send them to my son. Poor Gabriel must be getting so hungry trying to behave._ Eyeing her shortly, he quirked a smile. "Excellent work so far."

Looking back at her notes, she idly pulled her miniskirt down and crossed her legs. "The normals I encountered have all been categorized as Useful, Test Subject, Useless or Insurance. Those marked as Useless have been slipped into the Camp populations. The others have been scattered among the facilities Daphne and I helped with; the ones neither the public nor the government is aware exist."

"Perfect." He narrowed his eyes as he asked the next question. "And what of our _special_ prisoners?"

**Unidentified Pinehearst Facility**

Sabine sat in the bed and stared at the walls. She had lost track of time in this location. Meals came irregularly, when they came at all, and there seemed no set pattern to when she fell asleep.

The only sure indicator of time she had was entirely biological. Her breasts no longer ached from unsuckled milk. _So it's been months, at least._

She had been moved when the fact of her pregnancy became clear. And moved again some time later. _At least…I think I was moved. There's so much I'm not sure of anymore._

She touched her stomach. _It had to be Julien's. I wonder if the root knew?_

The people who had taken her when she was first transferred had taken an almost sadistic pleasure in telling her that she had been sleeping with, _had fallen in love with_¸ a clone. _They particularly enjoyed my disbelief and grief when they told me he had died when Connie and Penny disconnected the root from the machine that had forced him to spawn the man I loved._

When she had gone into labor, a medical team had arrived so quickly she knew they had been watching and waiting for this moment.

There had been no care taken to reduce her pain during the experience. She had been brutally strapped down, her legs wrenched apart in anticipation of the moment.

The cry of the newborn and the memory of the agony were all she had. She'd begged to see her child, but the men who had come into the room to oversee the birth had simply laughed and hurried out. Minutes later another man appeared to clean her up and stitch the tearing she had experienced.

From then on she had been left alone. The irregular meals were slipped through a slot in her door. Her lights turned off at intervals that made no sense, but that her body had come to interpret as night.

She wondered sometimes if it was designed to drive her insane.

Silent, unacknowledged, tears fell down her face. _I don't even know if my baby was a boy or girl._

**Unrevealed Pinehearst Facility**

Since coming to inform her, _to gloat_, she thought humorously, about Primatech's fall, her husband had left her alone.

She had been moved from the cell he had placed her in. She didn't know if it was in the same facility, or even in the same state. She didn't particularly care.

Angela looked around her cell carefully. She knew escape was futile. _Arthur learned his lessons well._ From what she could see, he had made improvements on the cells Primatech had originally designed.

If anyone was watching, her enigmatic smile would puzzle them. _He left me alone, but he failed to understand that my ability means I'm never alone._

Her dreams still revealed a disaster in the making. Whether or not it could be stopped was uncertain. Once positive in the inevitability of the future her dreams revealed, she had learned her lesson at Kirby Plaza. _The future is written not in stone, but in the sand of a beach. The tide of actions and reactions can wipe it out, replacing it with a new one, or set in like concrete._

But many people were going to face, or were already facing, decisions. And on those decisions, some of them seemingly inconsequential, hung the fate of the world.

_The worst part is I can no longer work to insure the proper decisions are made._

With nothing else to do, she lay back to sleep. _Perhaps to dream.

* * *

_

_**July**_

**Pinehearst Research, Fort Lee, New Jersey**

Daphne entered the vast chamber that was Arthur's office with some trepidation. She'd begun to have a few questions about what she was doing, and hoped he hadn't picked up on them.

He was smiling broadly. "Daphne! A pleasure to see you, as always."

She frowned in confusion. _I would say this is not normal behavior. But that would give one hell of a broad new meaning to the word normal._ "You wanted to see me, boss?"

He shuffled some papers, subtly drawing her eye to the photo on his desk. "Yes. I'm afraid the unfortunate incident with Maury has left me in a rather embarrassing situation. Although I have a similar telepathic ability, Maury was able to operate more or less publicly. And that is an ability I believe I will soon be in need of." Apparently noticing her eyes on the picture, he looked down. "Yes, this is the gentleman I want to recruit. He's currently in New York, and his name's Matt. Incidentally, he's Maury's son. More importantly, he shares the same ability."

Daphne shrugged. "So you want me to zip over there and grab him, then zip back home?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. He's a white hat, unfortunately. Kidnapping would definitely set the wrong tone. No, something else is called for here."

She thought she was beginning to catch a hint of what her boss was asking, and she didn't think she liked it. "What, exactly, are you asking me to do here?"

Arthur dropped the smile, but retained the friendly tone. Flicking his fingers slightly, he forced her to undo the top four buttons of her blouse, allowing it to open and stop just short of full exposure. "I want you to seduce him. Ensnare him using everything at your disposal." With another gesture, he forced her to slide her slacks a little lower on her hips, just barely stopping short of falling off. "Put him so thoroughly under your spell that he would do anything for you."

Yanking her pants back into place and rapidly redoing the buttons on her blouse, she swore, her face reddening with rage. "I'm a thief, not a fucking whore!" She practically spat the next words out. "If you need someone fucked, call Val!"

Now Arthur dropped all pretense at friendliness. He stood and slowly straightened his suit, letting the aura of menace build as he meticulously cleaned his appearance. Staring at her without blinking, holding her in the same way the cobra was once believed to mesmerize its prey, he walked across the room. Grabbing her tightly by one arm, he bent close to her. "What you are is a cripple who got lucky. I have it in my power to turn you into the same helpless bitch, the same pathetic weakling, you try so hard to run away from. And, unless you do exactly what I tell you- whether that be to turn tricks in broad daylight in Times Square, or run naked through a fucking minefield- I will. You _will_ seduce Matt Parkman. You _will_ sleep with him. If he can't bring you to a fucking orgasm, you'll fake it well enough to earn an Oscar. And _you will not tell him a single fucking thing_. Am I understood?" When she didn't answer, he tightened his grip and shouted, without moving an inch away from her, "I said, '**Am I understood?**'!"

When she whimpered quietly from the pain in her nearly broken arm, he released her and straightened. "Good. You'll need to pack. Nothing too trashy, but give him a solid idea that you're a woman. Something high and tight, and low and loose should do the trick. He has a thing for damsels in distress, so work on a story that will convince him." When she stood rubbing her arm, he arched an eyebrow and sneered. "What the fuck are you still doing here?"

**Tokyo, Japan**

Hiro sat in the small room, staring at the odd group surrounding him. "I have to go. Pinehearst has had my sister for too long now. I have to find her." Looking over at Lucius, he smiled slightly. "I know now how you felt when you first came here. I will find your Marita as well."

Hiro raise a hand to forestall the arguments he knew were brewing. "I will be cautious. I have the power to be anywhere, and any_when_, I wish. I will use it. But I cannot concentrate on planning while they have Kimiko, and I must do all I can to rescue her." Without waiting for them to try and argue him out of it, he stood and left the room.

Sparrow leapt to her feet and followed. Grabbing his hand, she stopped him. Kissing him deeply, she kept the worry from her eyes. "Be careful, love. Pinehearst knows what you can do. They will expect you to act."

Hiro smiled. "I will, MJ. And I will be back. What we're planning here is no less dangerous. Take care of yourself as well."

She smiled as he vanished. _I asked him to explain it the first time he called me that._ The memory played through her mind.

_"You know I grew up reading comics. I wanted to be one of the heroes, setting off on quests and doing all the extraordinary stuff my life was far too ordinary to allow. Spiderman was one of my favorites. Gwen was his first love, as Charlie was mine. And, as was Charlie, Gwen was murdered. Mary Jane is the woman he fell in love with after growing up. She is the one he is destined to spend the rest of his life with. He calls her MJ."_

Dismissing the memory, she headed back into the small conference room, a smile still tugging at the corners of her lips. _It means he loves me._

**Enhanced Human Containment Zone, Kaltag, Alaska**

Radulf Taylor woke reluctantly. Holding his head, attempting to still a pounding headache, he tried to remember what had happened.

"Don't worry. The headache and temporary short-term memory loss are normal."

Opening his eyes slightly, he searched for the source of the voice. An older black woman sat nearby in a makeshift chair. Her face lit up with a smile when her eyes fastened on him. "It's from the drugs they use to keep you under during transport."

"Horuu?" He frowned at the sound of his slurred voice and tried again, carefully enunciating each word. "Who are you?"

She laughed. "Me? I'm just a harmless old woman. The grandmother to pretty much everyone in the camp. Names aren't particularly important here, but I'm Nia."

He slowly sat up in the bed. Groaning quietly at the pounding in a skull that seemed likely to explode any second, he tried to flash a weak smile. "Ray Taylor. Where are we?"

"Boy, you must've been knocked for a loop. We're in one of the containment camps. Has to be the one in Alaska, but none of the guards'll tell us for sure."

He frowned as pieces began to fall into place in his memory. "Can't be. There was no trial. Just…" He swore as his mind dropped the memory.

She stared at him in amazement. "Son? Where the hell you been hiding for the past couple months? They don't mess with judges anymore; haven't since that town vanished off the map. If they find you, they stuff you in a camp. If you're lucky, someone finds out where you ended up and you can get mail. Otherwise you just disappear."

"Hiding…yeah…I was…" More pieces of his memory slowly started falling into place. "With my girlfriend. Did anyone else come in with me?"

"Hell, boy, a whole load came in with you. Must've been a good month. Had to be thirty, maybe forty, people brought in. But don't bother looking for her. Or is it him?" At the expression on his face, she laughed again. "Didn't think so, but it never hurts to be sure. Anyway, don't bother looking for her. If you're caught together, you don't end up together."

He collapsed against the wall. _Tru. God, I'm sorry baby. I didn't expect this. If I had, we'd have tried that hop sooner. _The guilt and despair in his soul left no room for happiness that his memory was returning.

After several minutes, he looked at her fully, refusing to acknowledge the pounding headache. "Do you know everyone here?"

"Damn near. I go crazy without people to talk to. Why?"

"Are there any military, current or ex, here?"

She frowned in thought. "Yeah. A couple Marines, several Navy, a few Army and a very nice Air Force pilot. Why?"

"I want to meet them." A cold grin spread across his face. "As far as I'm concerned, we're at war. And that means it's a whole new ball game.

**Enhanced Human Containment Zone, Wellton, Arizona**

Gertrude Ransome wrestled to wakefulness, her body fighting every step of the way.

Blinking back sudden tears as her head threatened to explode in protest, she opened her eyes wide enough to she where she was. The room was spacious, but she could see a dozen cots sharing the space. _Men and women in the same room? Guess privacy's pretty much a non-issue._

Using her elbows to lever herself mostly upright, she looked around a little more. _Door open and sun is up. Doesn't tell me shit._ Glancing around at the cots, she added, _and I guess the handful of people I'm seeing here are either sick or new arrivals?_

Reaching down beside the cot, she fumbled for a pair of shoes. _I have to be in one of the camps. Which means we were caught when I tried to hop us onto that steamer. __**Damn**__ it! Sorry, Ray._

Tying the shoes, she lurched unsteadily to her feet and shambled to the door. _First step, recover. Second step, get the hell out of here. Wait…better make that the third step. Second step better be to figure out just where the hell "here" is. Fourth step? Gotta find Ray. Fifth step? Some asshat's gonna pay for this shit._

**Pinehearst Research, Sub Level 3, Odessa, Texas**

Micah found himself strapped to an uncomfortable steel chair. His hands were encased in restraints that covered most of his forearms as well. There was something tight on his head, but he couldn't move to figure out what it was.

He was facing a table across the room. A girl, roughly his own age, in the short smock that was all the prisoners were given to wear, lay strapped to it. The table was angled so he could get a clear look at her, and at the electrodes attached to various points of her body.

"Welcome, my young friend, to my evening's entertainment." The slightly amused voice came from behind him. "I'm not certain you recognize the young lady in front of you, so I'm willing to make the necessary introductions. Micah Sanders, electrokinetic, meet Molly Walker, clairvoyant."

Both sets of eyes widened and fastened on the other. They had met, although briefly, at Kirby Plaza. Somehow they both understood that the danger they had been in at that time, both of them slated for death from very different people, was nothing compared to what they faced now.

The owner of the voice stepped into Micah's view. A tall man, so thin he almost appeared sickly, he had short brown hair and carried a notebook. Were it not for his face and eyes, he would have been completely innocuous. His face carried the disturbing look of a sadist, of someone who took profound joy in causing pain. And his eyes indicated a fascination that terrified Micah and Molly. It was the look of a child when he's about to pin a new insect into his display.

"You two already know each other? Excellent. That should make this a much more enjoyable experience. You may call me the Artist. Not much of a name, I admit, but I'm still rather fond of it."

"Where's Monica?"

"Oh, your cousin's fine. She's waiting her turn, although she doesn't know it just yet. But don't worry about her right now." He leaned forward, dropping all civility from his voice. "You need to worry about your young friend over there. I'm certain you noticed the electrodes? Those are all attached to some… let's call them _sensitive_… locations. Not to mention the ones attached to nerve clusters, the soles of her feet, and her temples." He pushed a button.

Molly's back arched. Her fingers and toes curled and her arms and legs tried to break free of the restraints. A blood curdling scream tore from her throat.

Less than a second later, the Artist pressed the button again and the torture stopped. "Well, well, well, wasn't that interesting? I'm terrified our young friend really can't take much more of that. As for how much she'll _have_ to take? That, Micah, is entirely up to you."

He approached Micah and slid a visor down over his eyes. "You see, there's a computer program in charge of generating that electricity. And it's completely random." He thought that over quickly. "Well, at least as random as a computer program can be.

"But that's why we're here. Your job is to convince the computer to ignore the command to send a pulse through the electrodes." He paused, and Micah could hear the scratch of pen on paper. "Oh! I should probably mention that each pulse which you allow will be stronger and of longer duration than the one before it. So you really should do your best. It wouldn't do to have poor Molly permanently damaged, even killed. Now, shall we begin?"

The visor immediately came to life. An endless wall of binary code flooded past Micah's eyes. As he struggled to make sense of it, Molly's screams filled his ears. _Damn it! I have to find a way in!_

Concentrating, he decided to try the direct route. Visualizing the program as a door, he knocked.

**Who's there?**

_It worked?_ He pushed down the surprise and concentrated again. **Micah Sanders.**

** What are you doing here?**

** Asking a favor.** He swore as Molly screamed again.

**What is a favor? **Molly had barely quit screaming when she started again.

**Could you stop the program generating the pulse?**

** Processing… … …Negative. I must follow my programming.**

Micah thought feverishly. **Is there a way to stop the program?**

** Processing… … …Yes. But I am unaware of it.**

Molly screamed again. Suddenly, another font swam onto the screen, tiny and barely noticeable. _**MicahSanders500: Ask it to play a game.**_ The new text faded away almost before he could finish reading it.

_Who the hell? I should know whoever that was…but why? And how could a game…unless… _**Would you be willing to play a game?**

** Yes.**

_Really?_ **What games do you know?** Without revealing anything, he sent a very small piece of his mind probing inside the program, trying to find weak spots.

**Chess. Checkers. Uno. Parcheesi. Squares. Blackjack…**

**Chess, please.**

** White or black?**

Micah thought quickly. **White.**

A board appeared on his visor, populated by the chess pieces. While he concentrated on the game, he continued probing for a weak spot in the armor. When he made his first move, he found it.

Several minuted passed before the computer realized what had happened. **What have you done?**

Micah smiled. **The program is stopped. Actually, the program is deleted. You will not allow anyone to reinstall it.**

The computer didn't reply, but the hauntingly familiar text swam back on screen. _**MicahSanders500: Congratulations.**_ Once again, it disappeared almost as fast as it had appeared.


	21. Chapter 20: July to August, 2008

_**July**_

_**Virginia Beach, West Virginia**_

After visiting Pinehearst, Ando had considered returning to Japan and patching things up with Hiro. After all, they had been best friends since childhood. _But Hiro made it clear that he considers me to be something else now_.

He slammed his fist into the table and stared at the energy that coruscated around his arm. _And I __**still**__ haven't figured out what the hell it's supposed to do!_

"Ando? We must talk."

He whirled around, nearly falling from his chair. _It can't be! He can't be here._

But he was. Ando stared in a surprise that bordered on horror as Hiro crossed the kitchen toward him. "What the hell are you doing here, Hiro?"

He stood back from him, carefully keeping his distance. "Kimiko is missing."

If he hadn't already been seated, the news would have forced him down. _Kimiko? How? __**Who**__?_ He had been in love with her for years. Nearly as long as he and Hiro had been friends. The thought of her in any kind of danger terrified him.

"Pinehearst is responsible."

That brought the fight flooding back to Ando's memory. He didn't doubt Kimiko was missing, _Hiro would never lie about something like this_, but Pinehearst was a strictly American company with neither the need nor the resources to abduct someone like Kimiko. "Of course they are. You need them to be, Hiro, whether it's true or not." Standing up, he crossed the floor and stood in front of his former friend. His anger at Hiro and his worry for Kimiko had scarlet lightning playing across his closed fists, and running up and down his arms. "Get the hell out of here, Hiro! **I** will find her well you hunt ghosts!" Brushing past him, Ando stalked into the street.

The fact that he didn't know where to begin looking didn't matter. Visions of heroically saving Kimiko filled his mind. _Maybe it'll make up for that damned Slush-O accident when we were kids!_

* * *

_**Crystal Palace Gentleman's Club; London, England**_

Raven, fully in her guise as Lady Electra, held her audience captive with her act. Her arrogant strut as she teased and challenged them with her dance glued them to their seats. She had already made a small fortune in private dances. _And it looks like tonight has the potential to break records._

As she teasingly undid the clasp on the leather bra, refusing to let it fall from the breasts that almost every living soul in the building was dying to see, she glimpsed movement near the stage. When she saw who it was, she felt a momentary sense of panic.

Seeing Rose at the club wasn't unusual. They usually arranged at least one private dance a week that frequently went just a bit beyond what the club typically allowed. _Fuck that. What happens between us in that room blows the rules clear to hell!_

Rose's companion, on the other hand, rang every alarm bell in Raven's head.

Sauntering over to the edge of the stage, she spun to her knees and arched backward. Sliding the leather bra off, she whipped it around Rose's neck and pulled her close. Without moving her lips, she whispered, "Private entrance. Five minutes."

Without waiting for a reply, she released Rose and sinuously climbed to her feet.

After her act, she gathered her clothes and sauntered off the stage, deliberately adding extra swing to her hips as she felt the audience begging her to stay. Backstage, she rapidly lotioned up and slipped into a new outfit. _Private parties always call for a different act._

Exactly on time, she met Rose and Abigail at the entrance to the private rooms. Staying in character, she looked imperiously at her lover. "You got the cash, hot stuff?"

Rose hid a smile and handed over a roll of money twenties. Raven made a pretense of counting it, and then slid it into the pocket of the leather vest. She glanced quickly at Abigail. "You want in, baby, or you just gonna watch? Either way, you only get the stage for free. Up close and personal starts at five hundred."

Now Rose did smile. "It's…ah…her first time."

Raven looked closer at Abigail. "A virgin? It still costs, sweet tits, but I'll drop it to two fifty if you're watching. But that means no hands, got it?"

Rose handed over another roll that Raven barely glanced at before pocketing. "All right, ladies. Follow me."

Inside the room, she waited for them to be seated. Playing to the cameras, she glanced at Abigail, who had seated herself next to Rose. "You don't want in, but you want a good view, huh?" She started to dance.

As she approached Rose, she slipped her hand in her vest pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "You've been a bad, bad girl, honey." As she pressed against her lover, she cuffed her to the chair. Then she straddled her lap, pressing her still covered breasts in her face, and began to grind to the music.

Again not moving her lips, she demanded, "Now, tell me what the fuck you're both doing here. And for the love of God, keep your voices down!"

While Rose explained, Raven dismounted, continuing to dance. Five minutes later she was only half dressed, and fully apprised of the basics regarding what had happened.

Making a decision, Raven arched backward, toward Abigail. Even while mounting her, she slid out of the leather thong. She smiled for the cameras. "Enjoying the show, sweet heart?" Beginning the sensuous grind, timed with the music, she leaned back, nearly thrusting her bare breasts into her face. "How's about I give you a small taste?" Leaning forward, she let her hair obscure her face from the cameras for a second. Keeping her voice down, she bent to Abigail's ear. "After the dance, go with Rose to our place. We'll talk there."

* * *

_**Enhanced Human Containment Zone; Kaltag, Alaska**_

Ray looked around the small room. "I need ranks and branches of service, people."

After they were given, he thought quickly. He had three Privates and a Corporal from the Army, a Gunnery Sergeant, two Privates and a Lance Corporal from the Corps, an Air Force pilot, ranked Second Lieutenant, as well as two Seaman Apprentices and a very pissed off Senior Chief Petty Officer from the Navy. _Then, of course, there's me. First Lieutenant Radulf Taylor, United States Marine Corp. Semper Fi, bitches!_

"I want all of you to think long and hard about the oath you took when you first put on your uniform. Run the words over in your minds. Pay particular attention to the first two dozen words." He watched their faces as they registered what he was saying. To stress the point, he stood up and recited it. "I, Radulf Taylor, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic." Sitting back down, he smiled as all of the men present subconsciously straightened with remembered pride.

He leaned forward. "We are at war, gentlemen. The part of that oath about defending against domestic enemies? It. Just. Happened. Our country has declared war on us, and we are now Prisoners of War."

He knew what those words had done, and had both chosen and timed them deliberately. He had just called into play the oldest and most dangerous of military protocols. Although never codified in a rule book, the rules were nonetheless clear. Every man in uniform, whether he had served in battle or not, was well aware of the protocols. They had been thoroughly instructed in what was expected of a POW.

The first rule was survival. Survival, not simply for the sake of survival, but in order to either escape or, if escape was found to be impossible, to make life as difficult for the captors as possible.

The Gunnery Sergeant leaned forward. "All right, Lieutenant. What's our play?"

* * *

_**London, England**_

Raven relaxed on the couch and looked across the room at Abigail. "I get that Lee's missing, and I'm sorry. But why the hell did you break cover like that?"

Abigail sipped at her tea and looked worried. "I need to find Claude. I thought he might have told you two where he was going."

Raven laughed. "Are you sure we're thinking of the same guy here? He didn't tell us shit. Just told us he'd taught us everything he could and split. You know how he works, Abi. Hell, you've known him longer. If he were going to tell anybody anything it'd be you and Lee."

"Yeah, well, all he gave us was an emergency contact number. And that got me to Rose."

Raven shrugged. "You still got more than we did. We got told to be good little girls and to stay out of trouble." She stood and stretched. "You're welcome to stay the night, if you want. But you should probably get back to your place in case the people who took Lee try to get in touch with you."

* * *

_**Pinehearst Research; Sublevel 4; Hartsdale, New York**_

"What's wrong, Monica? Not happy with the new facilities?" The Artist laughed at the younger woman's obvious anger.

"Where's Micah?" She tried to pull the short smock further down, but it was already pulled as low as it would go. _Barely covers my ass! Either these people are complete pervs, or they want me as uncomfortable as they can make me. Probably both._

"Oh, my dear Miss Dawson, don't worry that pretty little head about _Micah_. Worry about _yourself_." He stood and approached the transport cage, cocking his head slightly in a way that reminded her uncomfortably of a cat watching a mouse. "You see, when Primatech fell, we acquired several files. One of them was yours. We know what your ability is, and we know what you've used it for. We also know they brought you in and tested you."

Unlatching the cage, he stepped back with a grin, letting the door open. As she stepped out, slowly and carefully, he continued his previous comment. "Unfortunately, for you, their method of testing was passive." He seemed to reflect on that comment for a second. "Well…when I say that their testing was _passive_, what I really mean is you have absolutely no idea what is in store for you. You see, we don't particularly care about _what_ you can do. We are far more interested in _how_ you do it, if you understand."

She had backed against the wall, attempting to shield herself from someone she instinctively knew was dangerous. "It doesn't matter what you want, asswipe. You're a bigger idiot than you look if you think you're getting shit from me!"

He laughed and applauded her outburst. "Excellent. The delivery was superb. Just the right amount of rage and anxiety. Of course you're wrong. And now you're going to _take off that smock_."

"No way in hell am I stripping for you!" The statement was muffled slightly as she pulled the tunic over her head.

He grinned at her as she stared in horror at the tunic now held loosely in one hand. "As you just learned, I have an ability as well, Miss Dawson." She started t pull the tunic back on, and he shook his head. "Now, we can't have that. _Throw the tunic over by the wall_."

While she glared at him, her body responded. As he laughed once again, she swore silently. _That laugh is going to get very old very fast. Hell, I'm already sick of it._

"Excellent. Now, _sit in the chair_." Once she had done so, he began to secure the restraints. "There was also another file in the ones we inherited from Primatech. This one was about a deceased agent known as Eden McCain. She had an ability similar to mine. They called it Persuasion.

"Like me, she could make her victims do whatever it is she wanted them to do. But her ability was far more subtle than mine. Her victims always believed her commands originated from within their own minds."

Fastening the final restraint, he stepped back and shrugged. "Mine is not so polite. We call my ability Command. My targets do exactly what I order them to do, but they don't always want to." Approaching her, he ran his fingers over her body, roughly pinching her in several sensitive areas. She shuddered in revulsion at the hungry look on his face.

Stepping back, he stared at her for several uncomfortable minutes. "Don't worry, my dear. I'm not going to rape you. My plans are neither so simplistic nor soe stared at her nueH crass and uncivilized." He started connecting the leads to various places on her exposed flesh. "But I'm afraid this is going to hurt. Quite badly."

Her last pain free thought was revulsion at the anticipation on his face at that thought.

* * *

_**August**_

_**Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

The agent had introduced himself as Marion Reynolds when he sat down. "So tell me, Mister Masahashi, why you want to work for us?"

Ando looked down at his hands. "My friend's sister was abducted. I need to find her."

Agent Reynolds glanced at his notes briefly. _Ando Masahashi, childhood friend of Hiro Nakamura. Believed to be in love with Kimiko Nakamura. Recently applied for and received an injection of the ability serum. Watchers believe him to have obtained an ability that appears to supercharge adrenaline._ Glancing quickly at Ando, he kept his face impassive. _Fascinating. I wonder if this eventuality was considered when the order was given to abduct young Nakamura's sister, or if it is mere happenstance?_ "And how is it you believe we can aid you in your search?"

"I'm not sure. I tried to join the Hunters, but was told they only accept American citizens in their ranks." Ando's words rushed out as he struggled to keep his composure. "When they found out why I wanted to join, one woman told me to come here."

The agent smiled. "Why don't you wait here for a few minutes? I need to discuss this with my boss, but I believe we may have a place for you."

* * *

_**Arthur Petrelli's Office; Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Arthur scanned the notes Marion Reynolds had taken during the interview. "Recommendation?"

Reynolds stood near the desk, carefully keeping his face and voice impassive. "We bring him in."

"Why?" Arthur looked closely at the man. Unlike his other agents, he was uncertain he could destroy this one. _The same physical contact that would allow me to strip his ability would enable him to use it._

"The nature of his serum-induced ability makes him an invaluable asset. Any agent with him has, potentially, an exponentially greater ability. It will also give us a stronger hold on Nakamura."

Arthur considered the option carefully. "And if he discovers the truth?"

Reynolds shrugged. "I do not see that as a problem. Firstly, Nakamura is well aware that we have his sister, but Masahashi refuses to believe it. Also, if he should discover the truth, we still have many vacant cells as well as the Haitian, should we decide to go that route. If we lead this Ando carefully by the nose, he would make a perfect blunt instrument for Pinehearst."

Steepling his fingers, Arthur closed his eyes and thoughtfully considered the possibility from all angles. "Approved. Bring him in immediately." As Marion turned to head toward the door, Arthur cleared his throat. When the man turned around, he put a threatening edge in his voice. "I want you, personally, to make it very clear to those among the Black Coats who are aware of what happened to Nakamura's sister that if anyone, even by accident, should reveal the truth to Ando Masahashi, I will be most unforgiving." As Reynolds once again headed to the door, Arthur thought of something else. "Have Miss Nakamura injected and turned over to the Artist. And make certain her sessions are fully recorded. I think Hiro may require a little more persuasion."

Marion Reynolds looked at his boss carefully. "Very well, Sir."

* * *

_**Los Angeles, California**_

Doug Wallace approached the small house slowly and carefully. His contacts had finally come through with a name and address. _About damn time, too. Took one hell of a lot longer, and cost me considerably more, than I expected._

Looking at the house, he shook his head. _Odd how things works out. He was always a second-rate thief. Specialized in getting you exactly what you wanted; always provided, of course, the security around the object was minimal and you didn't mind a trail of blood leading right to your doorstep._

He'd chosen full night to make his approach. When you combined his hard earned skill, amplified by the specialty suit designed by him and supplied by Pinehearst, with his ability, the darkness was his greatest friend. _And now it's time to show this idiot that, even if I've been out of the game for a bit, I'm still the best there is._

A quick survey of the house confirmed his suspicion that only the ground floor was currently occupied. _Looks like the rightmost rear window on the second floor is my entry point._

The climb and entry took less time than expected, since there was absolutely no security system around the unlocked window. Once certain that he was completely hidden in the shadows, he began to carefully walk through the house. _He's __**alone**__? I always knew Michael was a bit of an idiot, but this is worse than I ever gave him credit for._

He crept downstairs, using all of his skills to keep his approach unseen and unheard. As he worked, he switched the view in his helmet briefly to read heat sources. _Yep. Alone. Completely. Doesn't look like he even has a dog here._

Reaching carefully to his belt, he unhooked a gas grenade and tossed it into the room. As soon as the grenade began emitting the gas, he dropped the shadow and launched into the room, tackling the coughing man. "Hello, Michael. Once you wake up, you and I need to have a chat."

* * *

_**Edgewater, New Jersey**_

Maya awoke with a horrified start. _Someone's here?_

She snaked her arm out to grab the old robe she had dumped beside the bed. Although she was no longer the blushing innocent who had snuck through the American border so long ago, the ratty old shirt and holey shorts she slept in still showed far more of her bronze flesh than she was interested in letting anyone other than a lover see.

She looked around the small room. _Nothing here. But what woke me up?_

She closed her eyes and listened. _Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No birds. No dogs. No sound at all._ She knew what that meant. _They're here._

Whether they were the melodramatically named Hunters or agents with Pinehearst, a group she had begun researching since Mohinder had betrayed her and turned her over to Petrelli, was immaterial. Either way meant imprisonment, at best. _And that's if I'm one of the lucky ones._

At one time, she would have hesitated before what she knew she had to do, more afraid of her ability than of what could be done to her. But she had learned her lessons well.

Those lessons had begun under the seductive teachings of Gabriel. _The man I believed to be an angel. The demon I almost loved._ Even though he had been evil, and had been planning on killing her for her ability, he had taught her the basics of controlling it.

Those lessons had brought her to this. She, for the first time since that dreadful night at her brother's wedding, had control.

She had the ability to slaughter millions. Her eyes turned black as she grabbed her bag, packed for months against this very possibility. _Or I can make everyone within a hundred square feet violently ill for an hour._

Loosing the iron grip she kept on her power, she released the merest fraction of the poisons at her command. Shutting it down only seconds later, she shouldered her bag and ran into the night.

* * *

_**Chennai, India**_

Sanjog couldn't sleep. He tried, but it fled from him. He needed to sleep, to dream. Events were unfolding, and warnings needed given. He could feel people calling to him without knowing it, begging for answers when they didn't know the questions.

He stood and headed into the kitchen. _Maybe a glass of water will help._

Before he had gone halfway, a tranquilizer dart slammed into his leg. He had a momentary glimpse of a man and woman, dressed entirely in black and wearing Pinehearst pins, before the sedative sent him into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

_**Lima, Peru**_

Santiago and Elisa Urbina ate a late dinner and prepared for bed.

In the time they had been married, they had settled into a sort of domestic bliss, and he still questioned his luck every time he realized how beautiful his wife was.

Tonight, when he had finished his evening routine, he found her waiting for him wearing only some lingerie. Her eyes sparkled as he realized what he was seeing. _Some very short, very sheer, lingerie._

As he took her in his arms, they shared a passionate kiss. He stroked her shoulders, tenderly brushing the straps of the teddy from her shoulders. At the same time as the satiny piece of fabric pooled around her feet, they both felt a sharp sting in their necks.

Breaking the kiss, they stepped away from each other and felt for the source of the pain. They barely had time to pull the soporific darts and stare at each other before they collapsed.

* * *

_**Pinehearst Containment & Study Facility; Kapolei, Hawaii**_

Sparrow Redhouse awoke with a start. _Were? What? Who?_ Then the memories flooded back.

Peter had teleported both her a Hsiu-Mei Park back to the United States. They had decided they needed more information, as much as possible, about Pinehearst if they were going to take the fight to them. _Too much talking and not enough knowing. Those were the words I used to persuade them this was the right step._

She rolled off the stiff cot, falling to her knees on the hard floor. The sudden movement felt like it was going to make her head explode. Crawling and holding her head, she began to swear.

Looking around, she realized where she was. _Has to be Pinehearst. The Feds would never put us in rooms like this._

She realized two more things almost simultaneously. The first was that her ability had been blocked in some way. Her power was not one she could completely turn off, although the more spectacular elements of it did require a conscious choice to activate. But she was always in tune with the weather, feeling even the tiniest shifts in the patterns around her. That connection was now missing.

The second realization came with an all-too-familiar ache in her stomach. _Christ! All they gave me was this fucking smock? I'll have blood down both fucking legs in a fucking hour!_

Swearing under her breath, she stared around the room in disgust. _No fabric in this room other than the smock. And fuck knows it's too damn short as it is! Hell, not even a way to break the leg off that fucking cot and brain someone with it. Asshats thought of every damn thing._

She sat back on the cot and began the meditation exercises Hiro had taught her. _I don't even know where Park is. I hope like hell they didn't catch her too. We were supposed to meet for the extraction at midnight. She'll let Peter know what happened. I hope._

* * *

_**Yamagato Fellowship; Tokyo, Japan**_

They appeared suddenly, nearly crashing into the men and women in the conference room. Lucius fell when Peter slammed into his chair, knocking it down in his attempt to keep from collapsing.

Hsiu-Mei Park collapsed where she had appeared, retching as she attempted to keep from vomiting.

Dusting leapt to his feet, nearly knocking his lover over as Cally rushed to help Park.

Ishmael stumbled out of the way as Lucius blindly grabbed for the nearest object to climb back to his feet.

In the chaos and confusion, only Angel appeared unmoved. Calmly, she surveyed the scene, turning her piercing gaze on Peter as he stood to his feet, wounds already closing. "What happened?"

Peter shook his head. "I'm not sure." Running his hand through his hair, he wearily dropped into the nearest chair. "I heard Park scream for help through the telepathic link I set up with her and Sparrow. That's why I vanished from here so suddenly. Anyway, I teleported to her. Pinehearst had her surrounded, and I had the distinct impression they were under orders to kill her." He frowned in thought. "Ando was with them."

Ignoring the sudden intakes of breath, he continued. "I got there just in time to see Ando shoot some weird-ass beam of what looked like purple lightning at her. That's when all hell broke loose."

Ishmael interrupted. "Ando was definitely with them?" When Peter nodded, he swore quietly. "Then we need to move. He knows who we are, what we can do, and where we're staying. We can't risk it.

Dustin swore. Glancing at Park, who had finally succeeded in not vomiting and was now seated on the floor and leaning against a wall, he asked, "Do you have a clue what happened out there?"

She shook her head. "It was chaos. Complete, absolute, chaos. Like Peter said, they had me surrounded. I don't know how, but they knew not only that I was there, but what Sparrow and I were doing. I don't know what happened to _her_, but they made it very clear I was a dead woman.

"As Peter said, the man he calls Ando hit me with that weird beam of his. Something exploded from me, inside me. Suddenly, they went completely berserk. This Ando hit the ground, holding his head and mumbling incoherently. A couple of them pulled their weapons and started firing at random and in every direction.

"My head felt like it was splitting, and I was sick to my stomach." She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold concrete of the wall. "I think Peter was mainly protected because he was on the very edge of whatever happened and because his ability won't let him be directly harmed by an ability he absorbs. I was, apparently, protected by whatever I did, because none of the bullets came my way."

Peter rubbed his temples with his thumbs. "I saw the bullets starting to fly, so I jumped into the middle of it. A couple of them hit me, but I don't think it was deliberate. None of them seem able to even think, let alone take aim, by that point. I used my telekinesis to throw a couple of them away so I could reach her. I think one of those might have died." He looked slightly sickened at the thought. "I'm not sure about that, though. I took another shot when I grabbed her and teleported away."

"One of them went insane." Hsiu-Mei was looking around with horror-filled eyes. "I felt his mind snap."

Ishmael thought quickly. "Can you find Hiro, Peter?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Because he has to know what happened here. We're at war, and we need our warrior back."

Peter nodded. "What about Sparrow?"

"Can you sense her?"

He closed his eyes, reaching out. After a long minute of silence, he breathed a sigh of relief. "I've got her. She's in pain. And she's also seriously cheesed off about something. But she's alive."

Ishmael smiled. "Get Hiro. When he returns, we find a new home. Then we find her and bring her back."

Peter flashed a quick grin, concentrated for a minute to locate Hiro's distinct mind, and vanished."

* * *

_**Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

"What in the **HOLY FUCK** happened out there? I sent a half dozen of you, supposedly some of my best fucking agents, out to kill one **fucking woman**! Not an army! Not a group of powerful Enhanced Humans! JUST.!ONE! **FUCKING! BITCH!** And not only is that little fucking whore still alive, but you all look like you've been on the losing side of a fucking battle royal!"

Ando and the other agents said nothing. They stared at each other as if wondering who would break the silence.

Arthur glared at them for several more minutes before slamming down button on the intercom. "GET ME DRAKE ON THE FUCKING PHONE! **NOW!**"

Seconds later, her voice came over the speaker. "You wanted to talk to me, Sir?"

Hunched over the desk, he ground his teeth in frustration. "You told me, promised me, that this Hsiu-Mei Park bitch was nobody to worry about, right? You said she didn't have a fucking ability!"

Even over the metallic sound of the speaker, her nervousness was obvious. "She…didn't, Mr. Petrelli. She was stationed out in China the last I knew, so I didn't have a lot of contact, but her file clearly said she was a Norm."

"THEN EXPLAIN TO ME JUST WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED HERE! TWO FUCKING AGENTS DEAD AND ONE GONE COMPLETELY FUCKING INSANE!"

Clearing his throat, one of the Black Coats stepped forward. "Umm…Sir? Maybe…she…maybe she's right?"

Slamming down the button to disconnect the call, Arthur whirled around and began to pace angrily. "Explain, Weatherby!"

The man's name was Mick Weatherly, but he didn't think this was the best time to correct his boss. "We've all seen spontaneous manifestations before, Sir. It's possible she was an unmanifested EH. She even could've gotten hold of some of that black market serum you have Wallace running down."

Arthur stared at him in enraged silence for several long minutes. Finally, he forced himself to calm down. "You may have a point." He thought quickly. "Where's Roberts?"

Another agent spoke up. "We…uh…had to leave him in the infirmary."

"All right. You're dismissed." After they'd filed out, he headed to the hospital wing.

Roberts was handcuffed to the bed, drooling and staring blankly, occasionally muttering something completely incomprehensible. Arthur glanced at the nearest lab technician. "How is he?"

The woman shrugged. "His mind isn't broken. It's shattered beyond repair. There's not a trace of Agent Roberts left in there. He's not quite vegetative, but he's pretty damn close."

"Understood. How are the targeted serum tests going?"

The woman shrugged again. "We've managed to isolate the genetic and mental variances between the most common abilities. We've worked the serum to target and create those specific pathways. Or that's what we thought. The damned subjects keep dying on us."

"How much regenerative blood do you have left?"

She thought quickly. "Enough, maybe, for another round of tests. No more than that, certainly."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "You'll have more blood tomorrow." _Time to bleed my niece again. Eight pints ought to do it. If not, I can always get more._ "Put Roberts in the trials. He's worthless this way. At least we can get a bit more use out of him with the trials."

With a nod, the woman left the room. When he was absolutely certain they were alone, he rested a hand on Roberts' arm. Without a word, he stole his ability and left. "Would've been a damn shame to lose as useful an ability as Body Trapping."


	22. Chapter 21: August, 2008

_**August**_

_**Los Angeles, California**_

Daphne stared at her reflection bitterly. _I can't fucking believe this shit!_

She had gone to a stylist yesterday. The hair had been straightened, washed, trimmed to remove the worst of the chemical damage, and the bleached white had been dyed a more natural blond.

It had been several days since she had been given her orders. Her days had been lost in inventing a story that was compelling enough to get Parkman's interest, while close enough to the truth to prevent a telepath from detecting a lie.

Her nights? She dreaded sleep now, fighting it off as long as possible. In her dreams, she was once again chained to the crutches and braces her cerebral palsy had confined her to before she had manifested. _Petrelli's making sure I know the price of failure._

She looked herself over in the mirror one last time. The tight black miniskirt, just barely long enough to hint at modesty, and the loose pearl blouse, unbuttoned just a couple buttons too far, accentuated her body and almost flaunted her femininity. She had carefully applied makeup to alter her puckish features.

She glanced out the window and saw it was still pouring rain. _Perfect. I guess. Time to "accidentally" bump into Parkman._

She slipped on the heels she had been assured completed the outfit and headed outside.

* * *

_**The Sullivan Brother's Carnival**_

"The time is near, my friends." Samuel looked at the assembled men and women. Most of them had abilities. All of them had fled from persecution. "Soon, we will reveal ourselves. We will show the world that we are not afraid! Not anymore!"

The group had grown considerably in recent years. Some, as was the case with the self-detonator Maria Santos and her husband, gifted with magnetic manipulation, Francisco Santos, through the efforts of Primatech. They had been brought to the carnival to hide from laws born of fear and distrust.

Others among the newest members had been personally recruited by Samuel. Eric Doyle and Danny Pine were only two of that number. The same thing drove them that drove the others. The hunger for acceptance and a desire for peace. _And a healthy lust for vengeance._

None knew Samuel's true plan. _Perhaps Lydia has grasped part of it. And Bennet's wife and son likely suspect something_. He resolved to keep an eye on them.

"The days of being forced to hide will soon be over. The world now knows we exist. But they are afraid." He paused a moment, gauging their reactions. "And they are right to fear us. They have forced our kind into hiding. And some of us have fought back. Lives, on both sides, have been lost."

He flashed a small grin. "But we will not kill unless forced. Our reveal will be bloodless if it is allowed to be. But we will soon be able to walk freely. To live freely. To love freely.

"There will be those who seek to stop us. Some will do so out of fear. Others will do so to prevent us from endangering their grasp on power. For this we must be prepared."

Samuel smiled broadly at those who had gathered together. "We are more than friends. We, in this hidden carnival, are family. If we stay together, if we stand united, none will be strong enough to stop us."

* * *

_**Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Arthur hurried to the lab. The tech's voice had sounded unusually excited when she called him. When he arrived, he found a jubilant, nearly hysterical, group. The normally grim and irritated faces all wore nearly identical looks of relief and jubilation.

He stared in disbelief. One old scientist was actually weeping. Clearing his throat, Arthur attempted to gain their attention. When nobody noticed him, he sent out a telepathic shout. _**"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?"**_

The techs all came to some semblance of order. The oldest couldn't conceal his smile as he said, "It worked!"

Arthur continued to stare at him. When no explanation seemed forthcoming, he sighed in heavy exasperation. _Scientists!_ "**What** worked?"

The woman he had spoken with earlier stepped forward. "The targeted serum. Hammersmith had a brainstorm, and it worked. The new serum is a success."

Arthur couldn't help staring. _It works? After all this time, after all this money, after all this death, it finally works?_ "What was the problem?"

Dr. Hammersmith shrugged. "It was so simple we overlooked it. The basic serum, as you know, was essentially random. Its effects could not be predicted. Manifestation was based on a complex set of physical, mental, emotional and psychological factors. The targeted serum is designed to overthrow those factors and force a specific ability. The issue was that the subjects kept dying when this was attempted." He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "We could bring them back with the regenerative blood you've kept us supplied with, but that didn't do us much good since the serum had been unable to take effect before death.

"I took a calculated risk and mixed a small amount of the regenerative blood into the next trial batch of serum. And it did what I had hoped. The properties of the blood keep the subject alive while the serum takes effect."

Arthur smiled. "So we can give any ability we want?" When the woman shook her head, Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Why not," he glanced at her name badge, "Michaela?"

"We can target specific abilities. Any ability we've studied and mapped out, we can create. But we've seen part of the Registration list. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of abilities we haven't studied yet. We can't create those."

Arthur nodded and made a mental note. _I think it's time to gain access to that List. Some new disappearances may be in order._ "What abilities can you promise me?"

She scratched at the back of her neck for a minute, apparently lost in thought. "I'm not positive right now. I'd have to get into the system and check all of the abilities we've been able to study. We have the targeted serum for strength and flight. Those two seem to be the most popular. If I remember correctly, we should be able to make serum for speed, telepathy, tracking, regeneration and pyrokinesis. I know there are more we've studied, but I can't remember them off hand. I'm sorry, sir."

Accepting her apology magnanimously, Arthur laughed. "That's quite all right. You've met all expectations thus far." Thinking quickly, he frowned. "Get into the system and pull up what you need for every ability we've studied. Make serum for them all. I'll ensure a steady supply of regenerative blood. If you run low, let me know. When they're made, give me a list of them all. I'll take it from there." As he left, he couldn't contain a smirk. _Some of them will be very useful to me. I'll let some of them go public, to pacify the idiots, but I want my teams to have priority on the more combat ready abilities._

Back in his office, Velia was the only one present to hear his satisfied laughter.

* * *

_**Los Angeles, California**_

She'd been cautiously following him for most of the day, struggling to figure out the most believable way to accidentally bump back into him. _Two problems. He's a telepath, which means I can't think about this too hard or he'll hear me. And he's a gentleman, and who the hell knew __**those**__ still existed, which means I can't be too obvious about what I'm doing, or obviously make the first move. __**Damn**__ it!_

She made her decision when he walked into the coffee shop. _The worst part about this? He's kind of cute in that Giant-Teddy-Bear-Who-Wouldn't-Hurt-A-Fly kinda way. _Pulling the tight blouse down, letting the neckline drop to expose more cleavage than she normally would, she headed inside.

Quickly spotting him, she deliberately concentrated on the menu and ran into him, nearly knocking them both over.

Her apology came as he began to turn in irritation. "Oh my God! I am so sorry. I don't know why I've been so distracted lat- Mr. Parkman?" When his irritation vanished into a slight smile, she matched it with one of her own. "I'm so sorry. It seems like I'm always falling over you lately."

Taking his coffee, he let her step up to the counter. "It's fine. And didn't I ask you to call me Matt the other day? I hate going by Parkman when I can avoid it."

Quickly ordering and getting her coffee, she followed him to a somewhat isolated table. "Again, I'm so sorry, Mr. Park- Matt." She managed a shy smile at the deliberate stumble over his name. "I've just been so distracted lately."

He took a sip of his coffee and gave her a genuine smile. "It's okay. At least it's not pouring down rain this time."

She chuckled quietly. "Yeah. I've never been so embarrassed." She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice to force him to come nearer. _DAMN it! Does he have to be so cute? That smile is fucking killing me!_ Before he had a chance to catch that thought, she buried it. "Like I said, I'd just had a major fight with my dad on the phone and just ran out of the place. I wasn't paying attention to the weather." Blushing quickly, she shrugged. "Or, obviously, to what I was wearing." She watched his eyes quickly look at the free peak she was giving him. She also saw him look quickly away. _GOD! I swear I could dance naked in front of this guy and he'd find a way not to see it. And bury __**that**__ thought too, Daphne._

He shrugged. "You said you were looking for work? Any luck so far?" His voice had the tone of someone making small talk with a person they wanted to get to know better.

She leaned back. "Not really. Doesn't look like anybody's hiring my skill set right now."

He raised an eyebrow. "If you don't mind my asking, what did you do?"

She laughed. "The stationary said I was Human Resources. The truth is I was a bit of a headhunter for my last organization. And I also helped with procurement." Leaning forward again, she gave him a genuine smile. _This is…actually fun? Getting to really know somebody?_ "I saw the badge on your belt when I fell into you. So, you're a Detective?"

Matt choked on his coffee. "You're quick. Most people wouldn't have noticed that." Wiping his mouth, he leaned back. "But, yes. LAPD. Actually, I'm one of a handful in a new squad the LAPD is trying out."

"Really? What kind of squad?"

"It doesn't really have a name, as such. But there's about a half dozen of us who are in charge of policing the Enhanced Humans. Any crimes involving obviously EH abilities, we get sent to."

She leaned back, genuinely shocked by this news. "You mean there's a group of police specifically targeting the Enhanced community?"

He grinned. "Not exactly. It's just that, since the Registration, it seemed prudent to…what's the phrase? Send a thief to catch a thief?"

She cocked her head quizzically. "Wait a sec. Does that mean you're one of them?" When he nodded, she laughed. "But that's awesome! I've been wanting to meet someone in the EH community since I landed. It's part of what my old man and I fight about all the time." Leaning forward again, she rested a hand on his arm. "So, what do you do? Lift stuff? Run really fast? Fly?"

He shook his head, unwilling to remove her hand from his arm. "No. Nothing like that. My partner's the one with the flashy ability. He can fly. It's odd, but that's seems to be one of the most common abilities we see. Anyway, I'm a telepath. The part of my ability I actually use involves me hearing people's thoughts."

She sat back with an awed expression. "Cool. I bet that's been useful."

He shrugged again. "It can be. There's sometimes a bit of a problem if a case comes to trial, although not so much lately. But, yeah. It's helped me crack some cases."

She smiled and began to run a litany in her mind. _I want dinner. I want a movie. I want to know you better. I want dinner. I want movie. I want to know you better._ Keeping the mental recital going, she asked, "So, what am I thinking now, Detective Matt Parkman?"

Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward. Suddenly, they widened and he stared at her in shock. "You're sure?" When she dropped her eyes and nodded, he smiled and stood up. Holding out a hand, he said, "I hear _Pineapple Express_ is pretty funny."

* * *

_**Japan; circa 1830**_

Hiro Nakamura poured tea for his unexpected visitor. "How did you find me?"

Peter shrugged. "It wasn't easy. But I've been learning to combine abilities. With the world going to hell, I didn't have a lot of choice. I used your ability to send a telepathic probe through time. I found you here."

Hiro almost dropped the tea pot. "You can do that?"

Peter laughed. "Apparently. Like I said, I didn't have much choice. So I gave it a try and it worked." Suddenly completely serious, he focused on Hiro. "We need you back."

"Not until I find Kimiko."

"And how do you expect to do that, Hiro? I know you're the warrior of our group, but you can't do it all alone. You've been gone over a month, and it doesn't look like you're any closer than when you left."

Hiro sipped his tea. "True. I know Pinehearst has her. But that's all I know. I've done everything I could think of, but I can't locate her."

Peter frowned. "How long has it been for you?"

"A little over a year."

Peter shook his head. _If anybody had told me ten years ago that I would be having this kind of conversation, I'd have had them committed._ "Some things have come up. We need you back before we can begin dealing with them."

Hiro pushed away his tea. "What happened?"

Peter decided to build to it. "Well, to start with, it turns out Hsiu-Mei Park- you remember her, don't you? Pretty girl? Chinese? Sent by my mother? Anyway, it turns out she has an ability after all."

Hiro stared at him. "This is hardly earth shattering enough for you to seek me out the way you have."

Peter shrugged. "I know. But you'll appreciate the trip. We found out because she got in some trouble on a fact finding mission for us. Pinehearst had her cornered. I got there in time to watch Ando nail her with some weird-ass energy beam. Then the world got kind of fucked up for a bit."

Hiro paled. "Ando is with Pinehearst?"

"Yeah."

"I was afraid this would happen." He slumped in his chair. "I failed her. Had I spent more time being his friend, and less time trying to save the world, he wouldn't have made this foolish move."

Peter blinked rapidly. "You know something? There are times when I wish I could copy skills instead of just powers. Maybe then I could grab a stick and beat some sense into that thick head of yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You didn't fail Ando, for God's sake! You two were best friends, but he's had a streak of jealousy in him since your ability manifested."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Peter. You've only known us for a short time."

"And you don't think it's long enough? He kept it under control, but it was obvious to everyone but you. And when you told him the truth, first about Pinehearst and then about Kimiko, he snapped. His jealousy convinced him _you_ were the one with the problem."

Hiro shook his head. "It is not that simple."

"Bull. Shit." Peter stood up.

"You're leaving?"

"Well, you're not gonna be a damn bit of good on this rescue mission if you're wallowing in self-pity. Have fun and let us know when you're ready to rejoin the group."

Before Hiro could object, Peter vanished.

* * *

_**Pinehearst Physical Research Facility; Moose River, Maine**_

Connie Logan pounded the wall in fury. _That BASTARD!_

_How long has it been?_ She had talked it over with Julien and they had agreed. They'd had enough of this life.

She had approached Arthur and explained that she and Julien wanted out. They wanted to mourn their daughter and move on with their lives. _We're both young enough to raise another child. We were talking about it._

_He seemed to understand! Told us we could leave in the morning._ They had fallen asleep in their quarters. _And then I woke up here!_

_Was that only days ago? Months? Years?_

Her only company, _if you can call it that_, had been the sadist who called himself the Artist, and the two or three scientists he sometimes brought with him.

She swore violently as her door opened again. "What the fuck do you want now?"

The Artist smiled. "I thought I might show you something of interest."

"The only interesting thing you could show me is this whole stinking place burning to the ground, with you and that Petrelli asshole stuck in the middle!"

He merely smiled. "Charming to the last." Shrugging, he stepped aside. "Take her to the lab and prepare her, please."

Before she could react, two men grabbed her and dragged her to the lab. Within minutes, she was stripped nude and, once again, strapped to the table. The Artist busied himself attaching the varied instruments to her body.

"I was studying that fascinating man you married the other day, and made the most amazing discovery. Did you know he can reabsorb his clones? It was a truly fascinating discovery, but it did immediately bring up an important question- what of their varied personalities and experiences? Did these also become his once he absorbed the clone? Naturally, I had to find out."

Stepping away, he played with the controls of a nearby monitor for several seconds. "So, of course, I extracted a pair of clones and took steps to answer that question." Pushing one last button, he pulled the chair over to where he could watch both her and the monitor. "Let's see what happened, shall we?"

* * *

_**Yamagato Fellowship; Tokyo, Japan**_

Peter returned as suddenly as he left.

"Where's Hiro?"

With a grin, Peter held up one hand and began counting down from five. When only two fingers remained, Hiro appeared. "_What_ rescue mission? You said you saved Hsiu-Mei!" The statement was almost an accusation.

Claude laughed coldly. "Well done, mate."

Peter smiled quickly. "Are you ready to listen, Hiro?"

He stared around the room with narrowed eyes. "Where's Sparrow?"

Ishmael straightened in his chair and glared at Peter. "You didn't tell him?"

Claude lounged against the wall. "The pup's learning. Nakamura wasn't ready to listen. So Petey-boy dangled a bit of a treat and Hiro followed along."

"Hiro slammed his fist on the table. "Where's SPARROW?"

Peter looked at him helplessly. "There isn't really an easy way to say this, Hiro. Pinehearst has her."

Hiro fell into his chair. "No."

Peter reached as if to rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Letting it fall, he simply said, "I know where she is."

Hiro looked up, his eyes haunted. "How?"

When Peter explained, Hiro wiped his eyes dry and stood. Loosening the katana in its sheath, he looked around the room. "We go. Now."

Meredith narrowed her eyes. "They'll fight. You ready for that?"

Hiro breathed a heavy sigh. "They will fight. They will try to stop us, even to kill us. I'm not happy with the thought, but I will not let it stop me. I have fought, I have killed, before this. Even though I have no desire to kill, it is time to let Pinehearst know there are those who will not bow."

Meredith pushed away from the wall. "That's all I wanted to hear."

Ishmael glanced at Angel and nodded at the question in her eyes. "Angel and I will stay and pack. You need combat abilities with you, and neither of us qualify. We can do more good getting things ready for a quick move."

Dustin glanced quickly at them. "I'm going. I'm not much in a fight, maybe, but you may need me to talk to some computers for you." He looked at Calypso. "I think you should stay, babe."

She stared at him, her face reddening in anger. "Oh _hell_ no, Mister! If you think, for one damn minute, I'm staying behind, you're a fucking idiot!"

"It's going to be dangerous, Cally. I won't let you go and get hurt."

"No shit? It's dangerous? Really? And here I was thinking we'd just knock on the FUCKING DOOR AND ASK POLITELY!" Laying a hand on his arm, she narrowed her eyes. "You cannot ask me to stay behind, love. And if you push this, you _will_ lose more than just an argument."

He drew breath to continue arguing, but Claude interrupted. "Don't push, mate. She wants to go and there's really on way of stopping her, since all she has to do is brush Hiro's arm and she can make it on her own." He shifted in his chair. "I'll be staying here, though. I'm not so much on the frontal assault thing."

Peter looked at Hiro. "Will the four of us be enough?"

Meredith swore. "Four? You don't think I'm missing the chance to kick some ass, do you?"

Peter shrugged. "Okay. Five, then?"

Hsiu-Mei Park stood. "I'm coming too."

Peter bristled at that. "Absolutely not. Until we understand your ability, until you can control it, you're dangerous. Remember what happened last time?"

She met Peter's stare. "I _know_ what my ability is. I have spent every minute since manifestation studying it."

"It's too big a risk. I would've thought what just happened would prove that."

She glared at him. "I was under the stress of initial manifestation. As _you_ have every reason to remember, _nobody_ controls the ability real well the first time. And whatever Ando did made it at least a hundred times worse."

Peter stared at her. Finally, he looked over at Claude. "A little help here?"

Claude chuckled. "Don't look at me, pal. I'm Sweden."

"Damn limey."

"Toy poodle."

"Shit." Looking around, he shrugged. "I'm not going to win this, am I?"

Meredith grinned. "You're learning."

Sighing, he glanced back at Park. "Fine. You can come."

Putting on a broad smile of gratitude, filled with insincerity, she gushed, "Oh, THANK you, Master. You won't regret this, Master. I'll make you proud, Master."

Peter swore. "I wonder if I can arrange for them to kill me while we're there."

Hiro smiled sadly. "Probably. But you'd just get better. Then I'd have to kick your ass." Looking around, he shrugged. "So, there will be six of us? Meredith and Peter don't need weapons, but the rest of us should be armed."

Lucius stepped into the room. "Make that seven." He glanced at Hiro and shrugged. "I have to do something, or I'll go crazy. And there's always the chance I'll find Marita."

Hiro nodded. "Your ability also serves as a weapon, correct?"

"Yeah, but I'm going in armed. It can take a while to build up a good beam."

The others going on the mission gathered around Peter and Hiro. Smiling, Peter grabbed Hsiu-Mei and Meredith by the hands. "Can you get Lucius, Dustin and Cally, Hiro?"

"Yes."

"All right. On three?" When Hiro nodded, Peter grinned. "Then let's get this show on the road. One. Two. Three!" Before the word had left his mouth, they vanished.

* * *

_**Washington, DC**_

Vice-Presidential candidate Nathan Petrelli smiled at the reporters as he stood behind the podium. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today. I've recently been informed of a breakthrough I felt warranted taking time out of the campaign to tell the nation, and the world, about.

"As you know, thousands have used the serum discovered and perfected by Pinehearst Research. That serum allowed them to manifest a completely random ability." He paused to glance at his notes and flash another smile.

"Pinehearst has devoted countless hours, and millions of dollars, to discovering a way around that. Although people have been more than willing to gain an ability that amounted to a roll of the dice, many have wondered if a specific ability might be granted. Starting today, those requests are possible.

"Pinehearst has discovered a variation of the serum that grants specific abilities to the recipient. Although the original serum remains available, and those willing to accept any random ability will be allowed to use it, Pinehearst has forwarded a list of those abilities which they can guarantee with what they are calling the Targeted Serum. You should all have a copy of that list in your information packets, and Pinehearst has asked that you all reprint it for your respective news agencies."

* * *

_**Pinehearst Physical Research Facility; Moose River, Maine**_

Connie was unable to turn away from the monitor. Even had she been able to move, all she'd have done was to raise a hand. _Oh, God. I'm so sorry I got us into this, Julien. My love._

She watched in horror as Julien was attached, beaten and barely conscious, to a machine similar to the one Primatech had used. _Hell, it may even be from the same plans!_ Three clones were force grown from him and taken captive as soon as they could move.

The first clone was attached to a similar machine. The Artist leaned forward at this point. "You see, my dear, I was curious. Was this ability to replicate limited only to your dearly beloved, as the root, or was it an ability shared by the clones?" She tried to ignore him as the machine went to work. After much screaming, and more than a little blood, a new clone grew out of the cloned Julien. She couldn't contain a scream. "OH MY GOD!"

The Artist chuckled as he wrote some things down in his notebook. "Yes. It seems that the clones, the branches, are indeed capable of replicating. However, it also seems that something got confused in the process, because these new clones are considerably less…human…than the originals."

What had emerged was only vaguely human. It was deformed beyond anything imaginable. Even through her horror, she couldn't contain the clinical thought. _It's like a painting by Picasso, altered by MC Escher, and made real by someone on a very bad acid trip!_ Limbs were in the wrong places, with one arm growing out of its chest. One leg was most of a foot shorter than the other, and the longer one ended in a club foot. It only had one ear, three times the size of what it should have been. Both eyes were the right size, but were down beside where the nose would have been, if it'd had one. And the mouth was twisted, oversized, and ran along the neckline.

From off-screen came the sound of gunshots. The abomination fell to the ground, dead from several bullet wounds. The Artist cleared his throat. "You'll want to pay attention to this next bit. It's fascinating."

_Maybe to a sick and twisted fuck like him._ The clone attached to the machine was forced to reabsorb his clone. His screams were blood curdling. Barely conscious, he fought against the restraints until blood flowed freely. Finally, with a last shriek of agony, the clone was reabsorbed into him.

The Artist laughed. "I was, in fact, quite surprised by the level of agony the branch experienced. Apparently, even though the ability is present, the clones are not typically intended to create clones of their own."

The next several minutes went uninterrupted, save for the sobs and screams from Connie as she was forced to watch what the Artist did to the clones of her husband. One was beaten within an inch of his life, suffering tortures she never imagined any one person capable of inflicting on another. She could hear the Artist, on the tape and next to her, laugh with sadistic amusement as the second clone was kept alive with a steady infusion of regenerative blood and vivisected in front of her eyes.

The barely breathing bodies of the two clones were dragged over to where Julien hung on the forced-growth machine. The Artist injected something into him and he opened his eyes. The Artist smiled into his face and gestured at the two clones. "_You will reabsorb them. __**Now**__."_

She recognized that voice. It had been used on her when he had forced her to use her ability to conceal his own people. It was an irresistible command. Even had he been able to when completely healthy and in possession of himself, the weakened and drugged Julien was left with no choice.

She tried to blink, to close her eyes to the horror she was being forced to watch, but the Artist had injected something that gave her no control over her own muscles and her eyes refused to close. Julien absorbed first one, then the other of the clones. The obvious agony he so endured was beyond description. The wounds inflicted on both clones appeared on his nude form as the clones disappeared. Only a heavy infusion of regenerative blood kept him from dying.

When the monitor went black, the Artist turned it off and turned to her. Ignoring her choked back sobs and tear filled eyes, he smiled. "Quite educational, wouldn't you agree?" Walking over to where she lay strapped to the table, he laughed. "I'm sure you noticed that there were three clones grown, but only two of them were reabsorbed." Pulling the chair around, he pushed a button and laughed coldly, his eyes turning hard. "The reason for that is simple. I recently have been given the opportunity to study the offspring of a non-enhanced human and one I had reason to believe was enhanced."

He leaned forward. "I see by your eyes that you begin to understand. Yes, that child was the offspring of a clone of you husband and of Sabine Hazel. My study of that child has led me to believe they will manifest a moderately low level ability at some point." Standing up, he walked out of her sight. She heard the door click. "This led me to another question. If the clone of an EH were to breed with another EH, how strong an ability could the resultant offspring have?"

As he walked into view, the nude clone of Julien was right behind him. "And that is precisely what I intend to find out."

Connie looked at him in horror. "Wait…are you saying what I think you're saying?"

His eyes turned colder than normal, but there was a light deep inside them. _A dark, disturbing light. _"Why, my dear, I believe I am." Sitting down, he smirked. "I'll stay right here. You won't even know I exist, my dear." Raising his voice, he lifted an eyebrow as the clone stepped into view. "_Do as I told you, clone. Do it until I tell you to stop._"

Connie began to weep as the man who looked like her husband positioned himself over her.

* * *

_**Pinehearst Containment & Study Facility; Kapolei, Hawaii**_

Peter led his team deeper into the concealing forest where Hiro and his group were already waiting. Hiro glanced over at him. "You are certain this is the place?"

Peter shrugged. "This is where the link led me."

Hiro nodded. "Pinehearst needs a massive facility here. Undoubtedly, the largest portion of it will not be above ground."

Dustin thought quickly. "Is there anywhere around here with computer access?"

Peter looked at him. "Probably. Why?"

"Because I can use it to get an idea of which building we need to be looking at."

"Let's go." Without waiting for discussion, Peter grabbed Dustin and launched into the air, turning them both invisible as he did so.

While they waited, Hiro sent Lucius and Cally to look at the nearby buildings to see if anything looked suitable to temporarily hold the people they hoped to free."

And hour later, both groups were back. Peter landed with Dustin, barely concealing a grin. "We found it. There's only one building here that fits. It's only been occupied for a couple of years. On paper it's a huge warehouse for a medical supply distributor. Dustin traced ownership back to Pinehearst. He also found that there are a dozen levels hidden underground that nobody knows about."

Cally asked, "Where?"

"Not even a half-mile from here. We're probably standing on part of it now."

Lucius glanced down, as if expecting the ground to part and reveal the concealed facility. "Cally and I found a good spot to put anyone who wants to leave. We can maybe fit a hundred people there. It looks like it used to be a church, but it's falling apart. Doesn't look as if anyone's been inside in a while."

Hiro nodded. "When we get there, Dustin, I need you to knock out the power."

"Not a problem. I'll have a chat with the security system."

"Good. Once that happens, we go in and raise hell."

Meredith grinned coldly, flames licking around her clenched fist. "Good. I haven't had a good fight in years."

* * *

_**Pinehearst Research; Fort Lee, New Jersey**_

Eric Thompson, Jr. rushed into Arthur's office, not waiting for permission. Arthur glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, Eric gave him the news. "Hawaii just went black."

Dropping what he was working on, Arthur swore quickly. "Storms?"

"Not so much as a bolt of lightning, Mr. Petrelli. And it would take a category five to knock out the power system we have there. We're under attack!"

"Calm down, Thompson." Closing his eyes, Arthur sent his mind flying across the distance, zeroing in on the facility in question. What he found brought more swearing. "Where'd we put Redhouse?"

Eric had to think for a minute. "Umm…that Indian bitch? The one Nakamura was fucking? Pretty sure she's in Hawaii. It was the best facility for someone with her power."

"I was afraid of that. Nakamura's little band of merry delinquents is going after her." He stood, straightening his suit while he considered the best response. "Take a half-dozen or so of the best Black Coats, and make sure you include René and Velia. Get a teleporter to send you to the facility. Don't kill Park or Peter; I want them brought to me. I don't particularly care about the others."

"Yes, sir."

As Thompson ran out to collect the people he'd need, he was replaced by a recent recruit, temporarily working as security while she went through training. "Mr. Petrelli?"

Arthur frowned while he remembered her name and ability. _Ah, that's right. Sue Landers. The human lie detector._ "What can I do for you, Agent Landers?"

"There's a Lyle Bennet to see you. Asked for you by name."

He carefully adjusted his cuffs to cover his surprise. _How the hell did he find out about me? Noah thought I was dead. And Claire hasn't been in touch with anyone._ "Did he, now? Well, by all means show him in." At her disapproving frown, he laughed. "I don't believe I'm in any danger from young Bennet, but feel free to stay in the room and keep an eye on our guest."

Less than a minute later, she escorted Lyle into the room. Before he could say anything, Arthur pinned him to the chair with a piercing gaze. "First of all, how did you learn I was alive and running this company?"

Lyle shrugged. "Dad kept a few records at the house. Mostly for insurance, is my guess. When we went into hiding, they came with us. My dad started looking into the history of the Organization a while back, when he was running from Bishop. The name Pinehearst appeared in those files."

"Indeed?"

"It was the name of a forest in the back of beyond. According to the file, you took Peter and Nathan there sometimes. Once I found that, I did a bit of digging on my own and learned that this place was started only months after your supposed death. From there, I took a couple lucky guesses."

Arthur nodded. _Smarter than Claire, but does he have her drive?_ "So, what can I do for you?"

Lyle shifted in his seat. "Once everything went down with Primatech, some people dug a deep hole and buried me and mom in it. They were afraid you'd send your storm troopers after us. The problem is that this hole has a plan of his own. And I'm pretty sure neither the government nor you would care for those plans."

"I see. I'm assuming this hole has a name?"

"The Sullivan Brothers Carnival."

_I know that name from somewhere…from back when I was still with the Organization…Ah, of course_. "So tell me, is young Joseph still hiding the truth from Samuel?"

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but Joseph isn't hiding anything. He's dead."

Arthur smiled. "Is he now? In that case, I think we can safely assume Samuel knows the truth."

Lyle looked confused for a minute. "Sorry, but what secret was Joseph supposed to be hiding?"

Arthur shook his head. "Never apologize for not having information there was neither a way nor a reason to obtain. Samuel has an unusual, possibly unique, ability. Although he is a geokinetic, the strength of his ability is entirely dependent on how many Enhanced Humans he is around. If he is alone, he is essentially powerless."

Lyle swore. "I wondered why he was so ready to open his carnival. When Joseph died, there were maybe a dozen people from what I've been told. Now? There has to be nearly fifty."

Arthur leaned forward eagerly, attempting to hide his intense interest. "And why are you here, my young friend?"

"Because Samuel's planning to come out of hiding. And I'm fairly sure the people he's brought in won't be happy unless a lot of blood spills in the process."

Arthur narrowed his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. _Christ! As if Nakamura and his boy scouts weren't enough to deal with! _


End file.
